


We Shine Together

by Kateera



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Gotham Season 2, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, What-If, gobblepot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-02-06 10:23:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 64,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12815505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateera/pseuds/Kateera
Summary: After Oswald tries and fails to kill Galavan, resulting in a bullet to his shoulder as he runs off, Jim looks at Galavan and realizes that he has an ally against the corrupt mayor. He takes off to find Oswald, patch up his wounds, and offer an alliance. A single decision changes the course of Jim Gordon's life, forever.





	1. Just a Little Change

**Author's Note:**

> When I started Nanowrimo this month, I had no idea I would be throwing myself into a Gotham season two rewrite. Thankfully, at the last minute, I decided that I would write this idea and see how far it took me. *insert maniacal laughter here* It's now over 50,000 words and still going. I said I'd start posting chapters once I "WON" Nano so this is it! 
> 
>  
> 
> I am so grateful to [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) and her tireless efforts to beta these chapters for me. This entire thing would probably not make sense if it weren't for her.
> 
> All other mistakes are my own.
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

 

“Jim, this isn’t worth it!”

“I have to try, Lee. He’s hurt, but if I can find him, I might stand a chance at taking down Galavan.” Jim stuffed more bandages into his old gym bag and moved to the living room, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet on his way to the door. “I’m not being irrational, alright? I’ll need allies against Galavan. He might be, well, Penguin, but he’s smart, a hell of a lot smarter than me.”

Lee rushed ahead of him and blocked the exit. “You have allies! Me, Harvey, Ed, Barnes, people who aren’t dangerous maniacs!”

Jim shook his head and settled his bag over his shoulder. “Exactly. Galavan is going to require dangerous, ruthless people.” He took a deep breath, as if his next words were painful. “I need Penguin.”

“Don’t do this, please. Jim, there’s another way.” Lee stepped back against the door, her eyes pleading with him to see reason, to see things her way.

“Lee, move, please.”

“If you walk out this door, we’re done,” Lee whispered, her fear and anger settling over her like a cloak. “If you can’t see sense, then I can’t do this with you.”

Jim moved forward and wrapped his arms around her, feeling her melt into his embrace as he placed a small kiss to her ear. “Goodbye, Lee.”

Pushing past her, Jim left the apartment before he could change his mind about leaving, about finding Penguin.

He didn’t hear Lee call after him, or the slam of the apartment door.

*******

The city rushed around him as Jim walked the streets, looking for anyone with a connection to Peng - to Oswald.

_This is insane. I’ve got no idea where he is or where he would go._

Three hours dragged by with no luck, every hidden space in Gotham seemed closed, boarded up, and silent. He was tired and the bag on his shoulder grew heavier with each block, but Jim wasn’t giving up, he needed to do this. There was a flickering thought in his mind that, no, he didn’t HAVE to do this. He could go back to Lee, beg for forgiveness, call Harvey about work tomorrow, talk about how they could bring down Galavan without Oswald Cobblepot.

He kept walking.

At the end of the fourth hour, Jim ran into a lead, bouncing off the large man and landing on the street with a groan. Looking up, he forgot his injuries as Gabe, Peng-Oswald’s right hand man, stared down at him.

“Hey, Gabe, right?” Jim asked with a smile as he lurched back to his feet.

Gabe stared at him and cracked his knuckles. “What do you want?”

“Where’s Penguin?” Jim put on his ‘don’t mess with me’ face, the one that caused most common criminals to whimper or beg.

Gabe didn’t flinch. “That’s none of your business, detective.”

Sighing at the stubborn answer, Jim put his bag on the ground and ran a hand through his hair. “I need to find him, alright? He’s been shot and probably needs medical attention.”

“What do you care?” Gabe’s face twisted with a sneer. “Go back to your desk, detective.”

“Please, tell me where Oswald is.” Jim hated begging, hated it more than paperwork, but he couldn’t give up.

Gabe glared at him for a few more seconds before his shoulders dropped and he stared at the ground. “I’m not sure where the boss is. He’s got a few hiding places, but I haven’t been able to check all of them.”

“Let me check them.” Jim picked up his bag again. “I’ve got medical supplies and I know how to handle gunshots.”

Pulling out a small slip of paper and a pen, Gabe scribbled on it and handed it to Jim. “This place is the farthest out and that’s my number.”

Jim grabbed the paper, reading the directions with a frown. “This isn’t an address.”

“Like someplace in the middle of the forest was gonna have an address,” Gabe retorted. “Thought you were a detective.”

Giving him a sarcastic smile, Jim tucked the paper away and heaved his bag back onto his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Just let me know if you find him,” Gabe said, worry creeping into his voice. “It ain’t right for him to be alone.”

“I know.” Jim hurried away from Gabe before his own worry dropped him to his knees.

 _Why am I doing this? Why am I walking away from Lee to go chase down a guy that’s been nothing but trouble for me?_  
_Because he looks at you like you might not be a piece of shi_ t.

Shaking his head and pulling his coat tighter around his shoulders, Jim walked towards the forest on the outskirts of town, ignoring the mocking voice still echoing like bells in a church tower.

_He likes you and you know this and you use it to get what you want. You’re a pathetic user and Oswald still looks at you like you’re a fucking hero._

 

Moving through the trees and the brush, keeping as quiet as he could, Jim followed his strange directions and heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of a small trailer sitting among the trees. There were lights shining through the curtains and the sound of splashing water bounced around the quiet forest. Walking to the door, Jim knocked and stepped to the side, not sure if Oswald was in the mood to shoot first and ask questions later. The sound of something crashing against the floor made him jump, but as the door swung open and Oswald leaned out, his hair a mess, his suit bloody and torn, and his eyes wide with panic, relief flooded through Jim’s body.

He stepped out of the shadows. “Oswald, it’s me.”

Oswald stared at him, rubbed his eyes as if unsure of what he was seeing, and then a pained moan escaped. He fell and caught himself on the door frame of the trailer, balancing on the steps like a drunk after closing time.

“Help me, please. Help me.” Oswald’s begging pierced something cold and buried in Jim’s heart.

Lurching forward, Jim caught Oswald as he began to fall again, picking him up in his arms and carrying him back inside. There wasn’t much room in the small trailer, but there was a bed at one end and Jim laid Oswald down, being careful not to press on his gunshot as he moved him up and onto one of the pillows.

“Oswald, can you hear me?” Jim asked, keeping his voice steady and clenching his hands to keep them from shaking. “I need to look at your shoulder, okay? I’m going to need to take this suit off.”

His only answer was a groan and a feeble attempt on Oswald’s part to raise his hand to his waistcoat. Jim took it for permission and undid the buttons, pulling the fabric away until he could see the entry wound. The small hole still dripped blood down Oswald’s pale skin and the contrast mesmerized Jim until he brought himself back to the task at hand.

“I’m going to clean this and get it wrapped up, alright?” He looked up to Oswald’s face, but he remained unconscious and Jim thanked whatever god might be watching them for small miracles. “Okay, stay that way. This is gonna hurt like a bitch and I don’t need you screaming.”

Still receiving no answer, Jim opened up his bag and pulled out his fully stocked first aid kit. He’d learned how to properly patch up his own injuries, as well as those of his fellow soldiers, in the safety of his first boot camp, then learned how to improvise in the field when the noise of gunfire and explosions made his hands shake and his ears ring. Taking care of Oswald up in a small trailer in the middle of the forest shouldn’t have made him feel like he was back in those battlefields, his hands trembling as he pulled out his equipment and his heart pounding like mortar shells hitting the ground.

_Get it together before he bleeds out._

Pushing aside his panic, Jim walked into the tiny kitchen and found a stash of water bottles in the mini fridge tucked under a counter. He grabbed a couple of bottles and a plastic wrapped sandwich from the top shelf, throwing the wrap in the trash and taking a couple of bites before he returned to the bed. The food calmed his stomach and he took a deep breath. Oswald twitched, his head tossing around on the pillow like he was having a nightmare, and Jim dropped the sandwich on the counter, hurrying over to the bed.

“Oswald, Oswald, calm down.” Jim pressed a hand against his forehead and held him down until Oswald stopped thrashing, settling back on the bed and lying still once more.

Jim set to work on Oswald’s injuries, moving quickly to clean the blood and pack the wound with gauze. Focusing on his task, Jim tried not to notice the lean muscles and soft skin hiding under Oswald’s layered suits. He kept his touch gentle as he carefully wrapped two rolls of bandages around him, tying the cloth in place and shifting Oswald over on the bed before he collapsed beside him with a sigh. Exhausted and emotionally raw, he closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his forehead.

“This is so fucked up,” he said, opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling. “Why does it seem like things get so out of control so quickly in this town?”

“Why are you in my bed?”

Jim jumped up and stumbled back, bumping into the wall as his eyes landed on a very shirtless, very confused Oswald. “Um, I’m, um, how are you feeling?”

“I asked you first.” Oswald looked down at his bare chest and the bandages wrapped around him and immediately dragged the covers up to his chin.

Dragging a hand through his hair, Jim averted his eyes to a corner of the ceiling. “Gabe. He gave me this address. Said you might be here.”

Oswald’s confused expression only added to the tension, a point of pressure building in Jim’s chest.

“Why are you here?” The question was punctuated by a cry of pain as Oswald tried shifting on the bed.

“Stay still,” Jim ordered, glaring at him until he remembered that he’d only moments before been contemplating on the softness of Oswald’s skin. He looked back up at the ceiling. “You were shot, remember? Moving isn’t a good idea right now.”

“I got shot,” Oswald said, his voice small in the big bed. “And you came and found me?”

Rubbing the back of his head, Jim sighed and slumped onto the floor, his frame collapsing in a puddle of sore muscles and tired bones. “Yeah.” The off-white, slightly stained ceiling still held Jim’s attention, but his ears caught Oswald’s harsh intake of breath at his answer.

“I can’t stay here, not if people know where I am. It’s not safe.” Oswald tried to sit up and Jim jumped up from the floor and held him down.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He risked a glance at Oswald’s face and frowned at the tears running down his cheeks. “Oswald?”

“He’s still alive. I can’t stay here!” Struggling against his strong grip, Oswald kicked and twisted, but Jim didn’t let go, holding him down until he collapsed back on the mattress, sobbing and clutching at Jim’s shirt.

“He killed her, Jim.” His words were barely understandable underneath the shaking sobs, but Jim’s heart splintered with the force off all that pain.

Fuck this.

Kicking off his shoes, Jim slid next to Oswald on the small bed and held him as he cried, patting him on the back and reminding him to breathe. Eventually, the sobs faded and Jim looked down to find a sleeping Oswald in his lap, his face wet and blotchy from his crying fit.

_I should move, go back home. He’ll live and we can go back to normal._

Shifting into a more comfortable position, Jim closed his eyes and thought about everything he should do while the warm weight of Oswald pulled him down into sleep.

*******

Light filtered through the curtains, a stray beam drifting across Jim's eyes and dragging him back into the world. He blinked in confusion. The unfamiliar surroundings and the strange weight on his lap broke through his sleep-induced amnesia and the events of last night came rushing back. Looking down at Oswald, still sleeping and looking pale in the sunlight, Jim rubbed a hand over his face and groaned.

"Who's there?" Oswald popped his head up, his eyes wild as he searched the small space. His gaze fell on Jim and he crinkled his brow, the confusion so clear that Jim couldn't help the way his lips curved into a small smile. Oswald smiled back, uncertainty coloring his cheeks a light pink, and then his face fell and he crumpled. Pulling away from Jim with a snarl, he retreated to the other side of the small bed.

“Leave me alone." The bright red color of his neck peeking out of the blanket gave away his embarrassment.

Jim huffed and stretched, rolling off the bed and to his feet.

"You're still injured," he said as he moved to the kitchen. "I'm the only help you have right now."

"I don't need your help."

"Oh, should I have left you to bleed out?" Jim snorted and grabbed a new water bottle.

"Maybe," Oswald said, his voice defeated and small.

Turning back to the bed, Jim frowned. Oswald always seemed so sure of himself and his ambitions and it felt strange and wrong to hear him so broken.

"Don't talk like that." Jim opened the water bottle and held it out. "Drink. Hydration is important to the healing process."

Oswald turned his head away. "Just go. If I do survive, then I'm leaving this place. Congratulations, Jim, you get your wish."

Pulling the bottle back, Jim took a drink and pondered the sight of Oswald completely demoralized. "Are you serious?" Running a hand through his hair, Jim pulled on the greasy strands. "You can't be serious. I'd just gotten used to dealing with you."

Oswald glared at him. "I can't stay. My mother is dead, and as I remember it, you wouldn't let me kill the man who ordered it!" The way Oswald's voice cracked on the word 'mother' drove a spike of guilt through Jim's chest. "She was the only person who ever believed me, one hundred percent."

"You still have friends, people who need you in Gotham." Jim refused to try and think of names.

Oswald laughed, a hollow sound. "No, I don't. You've made that very clear."

"I don't mean me." Jim sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard. "You have, you know, people."

Oswald shuffled away even as he winced at the pain. "I have people I pay to be loyal, and I had Mother. That was it." Sniffling and wiping his nose with his arm, Oswald played with the edge of the blanket. "She used to tell me; Oswald, you don't listen to the other boys. You are handsome and clever and one day, you will be a great man."

Tears fell from his eyes and Jim couldn't hold back from the heart wrenching pain of Oswald's voice. Throwing his carefully constructed caution away, Jim slipped his arms around Oswald and pulled him close. He wondered if Oswald had ever let anyone this close.

_His mother most likely._

Hands clutched at Jim's shirt and tears soaked into the fabric while he held the distraught man.

"Oswald, you're needed." Jim cleared his throat and focused on the edge of the bedspread where some of the lace was pulling away from the cloth. "I need you. I need you here in Gotham to help catch Galavan and stop his plans."

Oswald didn't answer, his frame still shaking while he swallowed and tried to control his tears.

"I didn't know your mother, but she seemed like a real nice lady." Squeezing Oswald's side, the one farthest away from the bullet, Jim cursed his inability to comfort people. "I'm sorry for your loss."

_Harvey is fucking better at this than me._

Jim tried to picture Harvey holding Oswald while he cried, but the image wouldn't form and he shook his head.

Oswald stopped shaking. Looking up at Jim, he narrowed his eyes in a clear look of suspicion. "You're being nice." He sat up and pulled back. "Why? Because you want something?"

Losing the warmth of Oswald's embrace, Jim didn't like how his heart clenched in pain. "At first, yes." He confessed. "But you're hurt and not just because you're shot. Everyone deserves help when they're grieving."

Oswald looked around the small trailer and wrinkled his nose. "I know you don't want to be here."

"No, I'd rather we went back to the city with heat and running water." Jim's wry smile brought a similar expression to Oswald's lips.

"I don't know if I can move." His face fell as he touched his wound. "It hurts."

Jim swallowed against the lump in his throat and worked his way off the bed. "I have Gabe's number. Let me call him and have him bring a car to the service road."

"That's a mile away," Oswald said with a snort. "How am I supposed to make it a mile like this?"

"So, I'll help," Jim told him, pulling out his phone and the scrunched up piece of paper.

Looking at Oswald, huddled under a lace trimmed blanket and rubbing at his arms, he felt his protective instincts flare to life. The idea that he would want to protect the dangerous, though currently injured, mobster, made no sense to him, but it drove him forward and he dialed the number.

"Gabe here."

"I found him. Can you bring a car to the service road turn off? It’s at the east edge of the forest."

"Is he alright?"

Jim stared at Oswald, who stared out the window as he talked. "He will be."

Hanging up the phone, he tucked it back into his pocket.

"Go away, Jim," Oswald said, his eyes on the forest and his voice tired.

"No." Picking up the empty water bottles and half-eaten sandwich, Jim threw everything in the trash and stepped outside. The sunlight filtered through the trees, creating a mosaic of shadows and light along the ground.

_Why was this so hard?_

He'd spent so long pushing Oswald away, his presence a reminder of what this city was, all its flaws, including his own. But Gotham wasn't just corrupt politicians and powerful criminals, it was also charming smiles and eclectic citizens and a place full of survivors. Oswald Cobblepot reflected the worst and the best of what Gotham was and Jim stood in shock at the revelation.

_I can't ignore him or wish him away. I don't even want to anymore. I don't think our city could survive._

It sobered him, the thought that while he knew Gotham needed him in the GCPD, it also needed The Penguin, the ultimate survivor.

"Jim?"

Turning around, Jim found Oswald standing behind him, pale and sweating, but standing.

"What?" The rough tone of his voice made him wince and he dug his fingernails into his palms, using the pain to gain control over his fluctuating emotions.

“You didn’t leave.” Oswald blinked, using slow breaths to bring color back to his cheeks.

“I said I wouldn’t.” Stepping up so he could stand beside Oswald, Jim turned and looked out at the sunlit forest, shuffling on his feet as his nerves continued to torment him.

Get it the fuck together. Why am I like this?  
You know why.

Jim stared at a spot of light until his eyes burned, thinking of Lee and her kind eyes and soft hands until the lump in his throat disappeared.

“We should go while it’s still early,” Jim said at last, not looking at Oswald, but hearing him sigh.

“Might as well get it over with.”

The sound of the trailer door closing behind him finally captured Jim’s attention and he turned around. Oswald stood next to the steps, breathing hard and holding onto the railing.

_Fuck. How much of an asshole can I be?_

He moved to stand next to Oswald, holding out his arm. “Lean on me as much as you need and tell me when you need to stop.”

Giving his familiar nervous laugh, Oswald braced against Jim’s arm and they set off through the woods.

**********

Walking with Oswald made the one-mile trek feel like ten. He needed constant breaks to rest his body and catch his breath and they moved at a glacial pace through the thick brush of the forest. Jim didn’t complain, at least they were moving.

Rounding the last corner, Jim smiled at the sight of Gabe leaning against a sleek black car, the engine idling and the big body guard facing away from the woods. Oswald’s grip on his arm tightened.

“What if he’s here to kill us?” Oswald hissed, stopping in his tracks while Jim tried to pull them forward.

“You pay for his loyalty, right?” Jim hissed back, pulling on Oswald’s arm. “Don’t worry. I can take him if he tries anything.”

“Oh, thank heavens, my hero.” Oswald’s voice dripped sarcasm.

Shaking his head at Oswald’s venom, Jim bent down and swung him up into his arms. “Stop being paranoid for two seconds.”

Oswald’s squeak made Jim smile, but he kept his laughter buried as he carried him the rest of the way to the car. Greeting Gabe with a nod, Jim laid Oswald down in the back seat and slid in beside him.

“Where to, boss?” Gabe asked, ignoring Jim and keeping his eyes on Oswald.

Looking at Gabe and then back at Jim, he could see the panic rising as Oswald tried to think of a place in Gotham where no one would come looking for him. Jim took pity on him and waved to get Gabe’s attention. “We’ll take him to my place. Drive downtown and I’ll tell you when we’re close.”

Gabe turned back to Oswald and Jim marveled at the level of loyalty in the man’s actions. What Oswald had done to deserve such unwavering dedication, he couldn’t begin to guess, but in this moment, he was glad of its existence. Oswald nodded his consent and Gabe settled into the driver’s seat, turning on the heat in the back without being asked, and pulled onto the road.  
  
“How’s the wound?” Jim asked, looking out the window at the passing trees.

“I’m fine.” Oswald’s small sigh captured Jim’s attention and he looked over to see Oswald slumped against the window, drawing spirals in the foggy glass.

“You’re far from fine,” Jim retorted and pulled at his shirt, checking to see if the bullet hole had opened during their trek through the woods. Oswald didn’t fight him on it and his resigned nature made Jim more nervous than his paranoia. For as long as he’d known the little troublemaker, he’d never been one to simply give up.

“I’ll draw you a bath when we get to my place,” Jim said, pulling Oswald’s shirt back down and patting his shoulder.

Oswald frowned and shook his head. “No, no baths.”

The desolate grief in those three words stung, but Jim shook them off. “Alright, you need a shower at least. You stink like that trailer.”

“You’re not so fresh yourself,” Oswald spat back, his green eyes full of fury.

“That’s better.” Jim smiled while Oswald glared and it made a bubble of laughter burn at the back of his throat that things felt more normal like this, poking and needling each other, simply because they could. “Shower for both of us then. Sound good? And food that hasn’t been wrapped in plastic forever.”

The rage died in Oswald’s eyes, as quickly as it had come, and he braced his head against the window again. “Sure. Fine.”

“Any way I can erase that word from your vocabulary?” Jim asked, crossing his arms and reclining against the smooth leather seat.

He didn’t get an answer, but he didn’t expect one and he distracted himself from Oswald’s moping by directing Gabe to his shoddy apartment building.


	2. Taking Care of Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim gets Oswald settled in at his apartment and heads to work, which becomes a lesson in misdirection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder)'s beta skills!
> 
> All other mistakes are my own.
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

 

The apartment was a small one bedroom with a tiny kitchen and it was filled with all the things Jim hadn’t had time to take over to Lee’s, random clothing and boxes full of childhood memorabilia. It had been easier to simply stay at Lee’s, instead of traipsing back and forth between the two locations. He hadn’t noticed because he never noticed when it mattered with Lee, or Barbara for that matter. Now that he was on his own, he cursed the fact that all his belongings weren’t in his own place. Even his clothes for work were at Lee’s apartment. Oswald didn’t comment on the clutter, or the dingy wallpaper and dim lighting; he limped into the living room and collapsed on Jim’s ragged couch. Gabe stood in the doorway, fidgeting and looking around the apartment as if he expected police to pop out of the cupboards and arrest him.

“You sure about me leaving, boss?” Gabe asked, his glare towards Jim strong enough to melt iron.

Oswald shot Jim a look of playful mischief. “Yes, I’m fine.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, holding onto his side while he rubbed at his temples.

“Leave him with me, I promise to keep him safe,” Jim said, holding out his hand and hoping the man could look beyond that fact that he was cop, focus on the fact that Oswald trusted him.

Gabe stared at it, as if shaking Jim’s hand might infect him. “I ain’t worried about those looking for him. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m a man of my word,” Jim argued. “I’ve said I’ll keep him safe and I mean to do just that.” He lowered his voice, and stepped close. “Even from himself.”

The words seemed to register with Gabe and he nodded, at last grasping Jim’s hand and squeezing tight. “She was a real nice lady and she was always nice to me. You make sure he don’t do something that he might regret.”

“I’ll look after him.”

“How wonderful it is to be talked about like I’m not here.” Sarcasm coated Oswald’s words and Jim grinned at Gabe’s guilty flinch. “Gabe, go away.”

“Have a good day.” Jim waved to Gabe as he left and turned back to his cranky guest. “Shower first, then I‘ll check that wound, and then you can sleep and I can figure out what everyone’s been up to today.”

Oswald’s answering huff only made Jim smile, a gentle reminder that he wasn’t dealing with The Penguin right now, he was dealing with Oswald and his peculiar mix of endearing and annoying mannerisms.

_Endearing, sure. If the habit of stabbing people who irritate him could be called endearing._

Wandering into his bedroom, Jim pulled out a box labeled ‘Bathroom’ and dug out a couple of towels and an old bottle of shampoo plus conditioner, dragging everything to the bathroom down the narrow hallway. Hanging up the towels, putting the bottle of shampoo in the shower, and unwrapping a package of soap, Jim looked around the bathroom and shrugged. The decor was old and the tiles were gray and the door to the shower was cloudy, but it was the best he could do. He returned to the living room to find Oswald snoring against the arm of the couch, his hands curled under his chin and his hair draped across his face.

_Endearing and annoying, that’s Oswald._

Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, Jim nudged Oswald's arm. "Hey, wake up. You don’t want to sleep on my couch. You’ll get so many muscle cramps."

Oswald groaned, but opened his eyes. "Why won't you just leave me alone?"

"Because stubborn is my middle name.” Jim held out his hands and snapped his fingers to get Oswald’s attention. “Now let’s go, the bathroom's this way."

Pushing Jim’s hands away, Oswald dragged himself up off the couch with a whimper. He teetered on unsteady legs and Jim stepped forward to catch him before he fell.

"Okay, see, bad idea. I really think the only way this works is with a bath." Jim's arms tightened around him as Oswald found his balance. “If you try a shower, you’re going to fall over.”

He shook off Jim's help and straightened his torn and bloody clothes. "I can manage."

Jim didn't agree, but decided arguing would be pointless. "Fine. If you fall, I’m going to say ‘I told you so’ and I won’t be nice about it. This way."

He led the way to the bathroom and once Oswald was safely leaning against the sink, Jim left him to clean up. He heard the shower start and returned to his room, this time digging out a box labeled 'Clothes'. Sweatpants and t-shirts tumbled out of the box and the image of Oswald swimming in his old clothes brought a smile to Jim's face. He grabbed the smallest set he could find, plus new clothes for himself. Passing the bathroom, he heard a loud thump against the wall and dropped the pile of clothes.

"Oswald, are you alright?"

He leaned his head against the door and heard the soft, but unmistakable sound of crying. He took a deep breath, opening the creaking door with careful slowness, and found Oswald sitting on the shower floor, warm water raining down on him with his head buried in his arms. The sight was so pitiful that Jim's mind barreled right past the image of Oswald, wet and naked in his bathroom, and focused on how to help him. Stripping off his own shirt and pants, leaving his boxers on, Jim hopped into the shower and pulled Oswald forward into his arms. He didn't know what to say, what to do to make Oswald stop shaking and crying, but he could hold him. He turned the hot water up and winced at the sting against his bare shoulders, but Oswald didn't flinch.

"I don't know how to fix this," Jim whispered. “I’m not good with words.”

"You should have let me shoot him." Oswald's voice sounded wrecked from his sobs, but the words held venom.

Jim shook his head and held him tighter. "No, you know why I couldn’t do that. I shouldn't have let him play me like he did. He knew right where to push so that I’d do what he wanted. Maybe I could have, I don't know, stopped all of this by not being so pigheaded."

Oswald looked up at him, keeping his arms tucked around his legs, but staring at Jim's face in confusion. "Why would this be your fault?"

"Everything usually is, at some point." Jim thought back to every moment where he’d let his pride and stubborn nature keep him from his fellow officers and his friends, even his family.

Oswald's eyes narrowed. "Because you let me live."

Swallowing hard, Jim shook his head and kept his eyes pointed to the ceiling as he spoke. "No, not for that. For, for pushing you away when you came back. I shouldn't have done that."

He heard Oswald stop breathing for a moment. "I don't understand." His body had stopped shaking at this point and his focus seemed to be on their conversation, instead of his grief.

"You came to my house that night," Jim said, feeling the push of the words against his tongue, as if by speaking them, he could expel the poisonous guilt eating at his soul. "I said and did some things I'm not proud of. I was an idiot back then, following some stupid sense of righteousness that I couldn’t sustain. For turning down your invitation, but using our connection to, I don’t know, look good to the department. Like I said, idiot."

Oswald kept his eyes on Jim as he spoke, reading the truth in his words from the look on his face. Putting his head back on Jim’s shoulder, Oswald drew in a large breath. "You're an idiot now.”

Jim laughed. "I'm trying not to be."

He looked down into Oswald's eyes and the spark that he had felt that night in the alley, when Oswald said he wanted to be his friend, flashed through his mind like lightning. They were so close, mostly naked at this point, and both torn raw by Oswald’s breakdown and Jim’s confession.

_Kiss him._   
_It’s not right. He’s vulnerable._   
_You know he wants you._

The water turned cold and poured down on Jim like a dose of reality. "We need to get out of this before we freeze." Jim stood up and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a nearby towel and throwing it to Oswald, who wrapped it around his thin naked frame, all the while keeping his eyes on Jim.

"I don't have much in the way of suits, but I have some clothes that aren't drenched in blood at least." Jim rubbed the second towel over his head and shoulders, wrapping it around his waist and plodding into the hall in his wet boxers.

Bringing back the small set of sweatpants and t-shirt, he set them on the toilet seat and left Oswald to dress.

_That was close. I can't let my emotions tangle this more than it already has._

He thought of Lee, sitting at work right now and trying to figure out where he might be. Lee, with her bright smile and warm heart and… his mind drifted back to the warmth shining in Oswald's eyes as he watched Jim talk.

_Stop it!_

He slipped out of his boxers and finished drying off in the bedroom, pulling on his own set of sweats and t-shirt and walking back to the living room.

The bathroom door remained closed as Jim pushed various boxes of junk to the side of the wall and cleared a path around the couch. Kitchen supplies were low and even if there was food in the fridge, Jim didn’t trust it to be edible. Picking up the phone, he dialed his favorite delivery place and ordered enough food to last him a few days. He hoped Oswald wouldn’t turn his nose up at the fried rice and egg rolls; he was too thin and too pale and needed the food more than Jim at the moment. He wasn’t going to watch Oswald waste away from grief.

_And if he does, you care?_   
_Yes. I care._   
_Fuck._

Admitting it to himself, that he cared, hurt like a punch to the kidneys, but after holding Oswald while he was naked and crying, Jim couldn’t deny his sentimental attachment to him. Whatever else might happen, there was a fondness in his heart for the troubled mobster.

_You liked holding him too._   
_Shut up._

The bathroom door opened and Jim jumped back into the living room, soaking up the sight of Oswald in rolled up sweatpants and the large t-shirt hanging off his shoulder, making him look far too innocent. His mess of black hair stuck out in all directions and he kept tugging the shirt back into place.

_That’s not fair._

Shoving every dirty thought into the back of his mind at the sight of Oswald swimming in his clothes, Jim crossed his arms and tried to look as casual as he could. “Feel better?”

“I doubt that’ll ever happen.” Settling back down on the couch, Oswald pulled his bad leg up onto the cushions and leaned against the armrest.

“It happens.” Jim played with the phone in his hand. “It feels like it won’t, for a while at least. But things do get easier.” Oswald stared at him with a look of complete skepticism and Jim offered him a small smile. “I ordered food. If you don’t want to eat it now, you should at least eat once you’ve slept.”

“When are you leaving?” Oswald asked, the dip of his collarbone distracting enough that Jim had to concentrate to remember the question.

“Once you’re sleeping,” Jim said, walking back to the kitchen and opening cupboards till he found his stash of Queen novelty glasses. Filling the Freddie Mercury glass with water, he stared out the window and took a deep breath. “I’ll see what damage has been done and maybe even bring back some more medical supplies.”

Returning to the living room, he found Oswald staring at him, his head tilted and his face scrunched. “You’re already late for work.”

“Shit, right. I need to call Harvey.” He handed the glass of water to Oswald and pulled his phone back out. “Drink that or I’m bringing back an IV drip.”

Oswald shuddered and chugged the water while Jim listened to the phone ring.

Harvey picked up, his voice low and rushed. “Where have you been? What’s happening?You realize Barnes is ready to fire your ass?”

“Harv, calm down.” A bubble of laughter built in Jim’s gut at the sight of Oswald sneering and rolling his eyes at his glassware design. “I’m fine. I had a hunch and I’m running with it at the moment, but I’m going to be a little bit later than I thought. Can you cover for me?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing all morning, sittin’ on my thumbs? Listen, Jim, Barnes is in an uproar over the Penguin fiasco last night and he’s out for blood. Watch your back, okay?”

“Will do. See you in a bit.”

Hanging up the phone, Jim looked down at his clothes and sighed. “Even later since I need to go get changed.”

“You can go now,” Oswald said, placing the empty glass on the coffee table. “I’ll be alright.”

“I’m not leaving until you’re in bed,” Jim said. “No arguing.”

Oswald shrugged and stood up, using the couch armrest for balance. He still looked too pale and the black circles around his eyes belonged on a ghost instead of a living being. Jim wanted to call the whole day off, tell Harvey that he couldn’t make it, and keep all his attention on Oswald.

_That right there, is why you need to leave._

Getting Oswald to the bedroom, Jim left him for a moment to grab more blankets from another random box, cursing his lazy side that left all of this undone until he was desperate. The blankets smelled slightly musty, but after the trailer, Jim was sure Oswald wouldn’t complain. He went back to the bedroom and piled the blankets on the bed, standing with his hands on his hips once he was done, wondering if there was more he could do.

“Will you be warm enough?” His words sounded hollow, the same sentence said by his mother to every house-guest like she was reading from a script.

“Jim, please. I just want to sleep.” Oswald’s words slurred like a drunkard at closing time and Jim smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. The action caused Oswald’s eyes to pop open, staring at him in disbelief.

“What?” Jim asked, feeling the familiar surge of guilt. “After the shower, I would have figured you were smart enough to realize, even if I’m not exactly happy about this situation, I do care.”

Oswald didn’t say anything, just stared at him with wide eyes. At last, a slight smile stretched his lips and he turned his head, leaving Jim to turn off the light and leave the room in silence.

He waited in the living room until the delivery person knocked, his head filled with Oswald’s bright eyes and smile and the troubling idea that he wanted Oswald to be okay, to get through this and keep surviving, if only to see that smile again.

*******

The drive to Lee’s house to grab a suit and change provided Jim all the time he needed to think up a plausible reason for his absence. He’d tell the truth. He’d been out looking for The Penguin. While Barnes might be a hard ass, he wasn’t about to keep his detectives from doing the one thing he wanted them on more than anything.

Lee’s apartment felt strange, abandoned, even though there was a freshly used coffee cup in the sink and crumbs on the counter-top. He changed and left in a blur of activity, unwilling to face the tangible evidence of emotional upheaval of his life. There would be plenty of upheaval at work.

The police department was dangerously chaotic, officers running around with no one to point them in the right direction and the newest recruits nowhere to be found. Jim headed to his desk and found a packet of papers on Oswald Cobblepot, aka: The Penguin

“There you are.” Harvey walked up behind him and patted his shoulder. “Any luck?”

“Some. I’ll let you know if I get closer.” Jim picked up the large packet. “What’s this?”

“Our new assignment. Basically, find The Penguin and stick a charge on his ass that won’t bounce.” Harvey chuckled. “Barnes has the newbies in his office, giving them the rundown of what to look for.”

Jim shook his head. “We need to focus on Galavan. He’s the real threat.”

“Not from how it looked last night,” Harvey said with a shrug. “What we need to be doing is keeping our heads down until Barnes stops foaming at the mouth when he sees us.”

Putting the pile of paper in his briefcase, Jim looked at the closed door to their captain’s office and gestured Harvey closer. “Any new leads?”

“No, and at this point, Barnes is ready to rip my head off,” Harvey grunted and sat at his desk. “I get a little sniff every once in awhile, but everything turns into a dead end.”

“There has to be something.” Jim frowned and crossed his arms. “A man like Galavan, he’s gotta have connections and that means strings connecting him to people.”

“Gordon!”

“You’re in for it now.” Harvey’s tone didn’t sound sympathetic.

Jim winced as Barnes’ loud boom broke through the cacophony of the station. Looking over at Harvey, who sighed and stood back up, Jim made his way to the captain’s office, Harvey close on his heels.

“You better have a good excuse as to why I had to brief our new recruits on their objective, by myself!”

“I was out looking for The Penguin, sir.” Jim kept his stance as rigid as it was from his army days, something about Barnes’ voice reminded him of his old drill sergeant and standing at attention made sense.

“And?”

“Nothing yet, sir.” Jim kept his eyes on the back wall and his hands behind his back. “I have a few more leads, but it looks like he might have gone underground.”

Barnes huffed and paced behind his desk. “Your squad is going out to search the streets. I want you with them until The Penguin is caught.”

“What about Galavan?”

“The Penguin is our main priority and until you have actual proof, you are going to stay out of Galavan’s way.” Barnes brought a meaty fist down on his desk. “Now get out of here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Leaving the captain’s office, Harvey wiped sweat from his brow and headed back to his desk. “That went well.”

“We can’t just let him get away with this, Harvey.” Jim frowned as he looked outside to see his squad, full of the best and brightest from the academy, waiting for him to track down the man currently asleep in his apartment, in his bed.

_Today was going to be fun._

“I’ll keep digging, but honestly, I think we’re going to have to wait for him to slip up,” Harvey said with a sigh, sitting back in his chair and looking up at Jim.

“I’d rather not.” Pursing his lips, Jim waved an arm around the precinct. “Just means more dead people before he’s behind bars.”

“There’s a few more people I can shake around to see if anything comes out.” Harvey sounded bored, but Jim noticed the wariness in his eyes, the knowledge that he would be going against the captain’s orders, but that he wanted to, for Jim.

“Would you?” Jim couldn’t keep the hope out of his voice, the slight chance that they could find something to bring down Galavan before Oswald’s strength returned and he tried to continue on his murderous rampage.

“Sure. I mean, I don’t have to lead a bunch of meat-heads in a wild penguin chase or anything. Besides, it’s better than watching Barnes scowl at everyone.” Standing from his desk, Harvey slipped on his coat and followed Jim out of the station. “I’ll check back with you if anything changes.”

Jim nodded and patted him on the back. “Thanks.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Harvey said with a pointed look.

Jim didn’t have the heart to tell him it was too late for that speech so just grinned and watched his partner walk to his car. Staring at the giant strike force vehicle parked by the station entrance, he sighed and went to work.

The great thing about searching for someone that you had no intention of finding, Jim found, was that the pressure was gone. He didn’t feel the need to break fingers or heads while they talked to every underground contact on Barnes’ extensive list. No one had a clue where Oswald was, and Jim’s relief battled with his guilt at the pointless use of manpower.

Sitting in the back of the hummer, trying to decide if they’d been at this long enough to call a break for lunch, Jim felt his phone buzz and looked down to see a familiar number light up his screen.

“Hello?” He answered, feeling every eye in the back of the vehicle turn and look at him.

“Jim, there is no soy sauce in this entire house.” Oswald’s voice crackled over the speaker. “I have searched everywhere!”

Groaning at the high pitched voice in his ear, Jim moved to the back of the bouncing hummer and crouched low, hoping the sound of the motor would drown out the unmistakable voice of their current number one fugitive.

“Did you check the fridge?” He whispered, the surreal feel of conversing with Oswald while also searching for him made his head hurt.

“Why would anyone put-oh, you would. Of course.” Oswald disconnected the call and Jim sighed.

“Trouble at home?” Pinkney asked, a smirk on his lips as he bounced with the motion of the vehicle.

“My business,” Jim said with a scowl, tucking away his phone and looking back down at the list of names. He searched until he found Gabe Viscotti and looked at the address. They weren’t too far away, but he couldn’t risk them finding a link to Oswald and so he punched in the address for someone on the other side of town.

“Let’s try a different route.”

No one argued and the silence irked Jim.

_These kids can’t even think for themselves._

The day wasn’t a total waste, a few criminals were thrown into patrol cars as they made their rounds and when they returned to the station, Jim thanked his team for their hard work and sent them home. Barnes nodded in his direction and Jim counted that as a win. He walked to his desk and grabbed his briefcase, full of reports on The Penguin, and patted Harvey on the back.

“See you to tomorrow, Harv,” Jim said, slipping on his coat while Harvey filled out an arrest report. “You still working on what we talked about?”

Harvey laughed and nodded, but threw a wary glance at Barnes’ office. “Got a hot date tonight, Jimbo?”

Jim smiled. “Something like that. Night.” He turned to leave and stopped in his tracks, the sight of Lee by the exit making his palms sweat.

She looked sad, but determined, twirling a pen between her fingers while she waited, and silence fell on the station as he approached.

“How are you?” Jim asked, keeping his voice quiet and putting a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged off his hand and crossed her arms. “I’ve been through worse.” She cleared her throat. “How are you?”

“Surviving,” Jim said, looking around at their audience. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

Lee shook her head. “You made your choice, Jim. I can’t change that.” The sadness in her voice broke Jim’s heart, but the edge in her eyes told him that this wasn’t going to be a forgive and forget kind of deal. “I’m here to ask for my key back.”

The silence grew thick and Jim hated that she was doing this in public, even as he supposed it was the easiest way to break it to the whole office at once.

He stalled for time, trying to think of a way to make her change her mind. He missed her presence, the ease of her smile, and the warmth of her arms. “My things are still at your place.”

“Not for long.” Lee held out her hand, keeping her eyes on Jim. “Key, please. I’d still like to keep things civil.”

“Lee, can we at least talk about this? And what do you mean, not for long?” A sinking feeling grew in Jim’s stomach.

“The moving company should be dumping everything at your place in the next few minutes.” Her sad eyes and frowning mouth made him want to gather her in his arms and hold her until she smiled. Her words stopped his heart.

“You sent strangers to my apartment?” Jim dug in his pocket and pulled out his key ring, sliding her house key off. “Here, I have to go.”

“What about talking?” Lee asked, her fingers clasped around the key, holding it like a talisman.

“I have to go. I’m sorry.” He couldn’t stop to hear what she said next, only waved at Harvey as he headed out onto the street.

Flagging down a taxi, he sat with his hands clasped in fear of what he might find when he reached his home. He imagined Oswald standing over the bodies of men dressed in moving overalls, or Oswald being dragged into the station, Barnes’ being told that he’d been found at Jim’s place.

_This is a disaster._

The apartment building was quiet when Jim arrived and he ran up the stairs in a sprint, hoping that he’d beaten the movers to his apartment and he could hide anything incriminating until they left.

_Hide Oswald._

Rounding the corner to his place, he found a stack of professionally packed boxes stacked next to his door, and a note on the very top.

**Roommate wouldn’t open the door. Said leaving things here would be fine. Please call us if there is an issue.**   
**-Gotham Movers, Not Shakers**

He held a hand to his heart to keep it from beating out of his chest and opened his door, carrying the first box inside while he looked around. “Oswald?”

A noise from the bedroom caught his attention and Jim set his box down by the couch and peeked around the door to find Oswald struggling to clean up his gunshot wound with a bottle of antiseptic ointment and a roll of gauze.

“Couldn’t wait for me to get home?” Jim asked, ignoring the way his words sounded, like this dingy apartment was anything like home, for either of them.

Turning and looking at Jim, Oswald’s flushed face sent off a shot of worry through his chest.

“What is it?”

Oswald clutched at the blanket and took a deep breath. “I’m leaving Gotham. As soon as I can figure out how to wrap this by myself.”

Jim swallowed his annoyance and knelt by the bed. “Why?”

“This city, it chews and chews and spits you out to crawl away from it’s maw,” Oswald said, his voice harsh and raw. “And now Galavan is taking over. I can’t…”

“You can,” Jim said, his voice firm. “I’ve seen you handle everything in this city with a shrug and a smile. Don’t tell me that one man is going to beat you. Hell, I’m not sure I can even try to do that anymore.”

“He’s too well-connected.”

Jim settled by the bed and patted Oswald’s knee. “I told you I needed you in that trailer, to take down Galavan, and I meant it. Barnes isn’t letting me go after him without more evidence.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Oswald pointed to his shoulder. “Bleed on him? I can barely take care of myself, much less help you.”

Looking at the half bandaged wound, Jim moved around until he was sitting on his knees. “Let me see.”

Oswald sat stiff and still on the bed while Jim spread a layer of antibacterial gel on the wound with a strip of gauze and then wrapped the whole thing with more gauze. With his chest and shoulder wrapped in white cotton, and Jim’s baggy sweatpants hanging off his slim frame, Oswald Cobblepot managed to look even more pitiful than Jim had ever seen him.

“This is so messed up,” Jim said, flopping down on the bed and groaning. “I spent my entire work day looking for you with my strike team, questioning people who might know where you are, pointing guns at people, all while you were here, sleeping in my bed and refusing to let the moving guys bring my stuff in.”

Oswald carefully laid beside him. “Did anyone talk?”

Jim shook his head. “What could people say? No one knows where you are.” He sat up, leaning on his elbows, and looked over at Oswald. “Speaking of, my stuff is out in the hall because of you.”

“You’re welcome.” Oswald sniffed and moved further up on the bed. “They had the landlord with a key and he would have recognized me. I quoted German at them until they gave up.”

Jim laughed and settled back on the bed. “Thanks then.”

“What’s in the boxes?”

Jim sobered at the question, the reality of what those boxes represented hitting him like a steel beam.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Oswald said, a soft whisper in the tense silence.

“Lee sent it over,” Jim said, ripping the information out like a band-aid from his skin. “We’re - not together anymore.”

“Oh.”

Silence wrapped around the room like a blanket and Jim closed his eyes against the waves of grief flooding through his body. Beside him on the bed, Oswald started humming a strange, but soothing tune. His voice didn’t float in the air, but it wasn’t a bad sound and Jim listened as the humming turned to words.

_“The fire has gone out_

_Wet from snow above_

_But nothing will warm me more_

_Than my, my mother’s love.”_

“I’ve never heard that song,” Jim said, opening his eyes as Oswald’s voice cracked at the last word.

“Mother would sing it, to put me to sleep.” Tears coated Oswald’s voice and Jim felt the same gut wrenching pain as he had when he’d stood in front of Galavan and protected him from Oswald’s rage.

“It’s pretty.” Sitting up, Jim ran a hand through his hair and then leaned down and pulled off his shoes. “Did you leave any leftovers?”

Oswald snorted. “You ordered enough for five grown men. I put it all in the fridge.”

Standing up and stretching out the ache in his back, Jim rolled his head on his shoulders and then looked down to see Oswald staring at him. “What?”

The blush on his face shouldn’t have been cute, should have scared him, but Jim’s fear of The Penguin was never cemented in fact, only facade.

_How could I be afraid of someone who looks at me like that?_

“Did you need anything?” Jim asked, taking his jacket off, undoing his shoulder harness, and putting his gun and badge on the dresser. “I need dinner and a drink after today.”

Oswald slid under the covers and shook his head. “I think I’ll sleep.”

“Suit yourself, I’ll be in the living room if you need something.” Jim turned to walk away.

“Thank you, Jim,” Oswald said, the words were quiet, but their sincerity sounded like thunder in Jim’s head.


	3. Can't Get a Man with a Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After leaving Oswald in his apartment with strict instructions to stay put, Jim heads back to work for a day of paperwork, only to discover Barbara waiting for him in the interrogation room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta, [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) who is also a fantastic cheerleader! XD Any mistakes you see are my own.
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

 

 

 

Sleeping on his couch was not working for Jim, the springs dug into his back and the blanket kept slipping down onto the floor. He'd moved the boxes from the hallway into the living room and the space felt cramped and too cluttered for his taste. It would have to do until he could sort through everything and throw out what he didn't need. After dinner, a late night show with the volume turned down, and two too many refills of his scotch, Jim had curled up on his lumpy couch and tried to sleep. He woke up in the middle of the night to hear Oswald climb out of bed and scurry to and from the bathroom. By the time Jim could fall asleep again, the sun was peeking through his curtains.  
  
His alarm buzzed a few hours later and he woke up cranky and sore. The bedroom door stood open and when he looked in, Oswald lay sprawled across his mattress, mouth open, hair a mess, and a line of drool across the pillow.

_Lucky asshole.  
_

Jim stretched and sighed at each crack of his spine, heading to the bathroom for a shower and a shave, hoping for a better day. The hot water eased his tired muscles and a fresh shave made him feel more like himself. Jim walked out of the bathroom in his old sweatshirt and pants to the smell of sweet dough and strong coffee. Gabe stood in his living room, holding a drink carrier and glaring like Jim had insulted his family.

"What?" Jim asked, running a towel over his head and scowling back at the bigger man. He wasn't going to be intimidated in his own home.

"You had me bring him here, to this mess?" Gabe's chastising voice filled the room.

"You wake him up and I'll kick you out of here," Jim said, pointing towards the door.

"I'm already awake."

Jim spun around to see Oswald standing in the bedroom doorway, rubbing at his eyes and hair and scowling at Gabe. "Where's my tea?"

Gabe held out a steaming cup, a waft of spices hitting Jim’s nose as he passed the cup to a delighted Oswald. "Sorry, boss, Ms. Lowery says the bag might have steeped too long."

Oswald took a sip and squinted at the cup. "She's right. But it's fine." Turning to Jim, he waved him to the table. "Ms. Lowery makes the best waffles in Gotham and you look like you've been sleeping on the floor."

Jim stared at him, at the table of goodies, and at Gabe standing next to the couch with two cups of cofee in his carrier and a scowl, and walked into the bedroom, stopping only long enough to grab a box marked 'Clothes' from the pile by the wall. He closed the door, put his box down, and leaned his head against the cool wood, hoping for some kind of epiphany to strike and tell him how to deal with his life.

_This is insanity. And yet, it feels normal and that's scaring the shit out of me._

Digging through the box, he found a shirt and pair of pants that didn't look too wrinkled and slipped them on, thankful at least that the moving company had labeled everything. He put yesterday's tie on and slid his shoulder holster into place. Once his badge and gun were in place, Jim looked in the mirror and was surprised to see that he looked normal.

_Time to face the music._

He opened the door and found Gabe gone and Oswald sitting at his tiny kitchen table, holding his tea and looking entirely too much like he belonged. There were two plates set, a cup of coffee sitting by his seat, silverware on the table and butter and syrup, hopefully procured from somewhere other than his cupboards. Jim was shocked at the pure domesticity of it all.

 _He's a criminal, a killer.  
_ _So are you._

The more time he spent arguing with himself, the less time he had for breakfast, so Jim shook his head to clear it of that pesky voice and sat down across from Oswald. "The best waffles are made by me, just so you're aware." Having said his piece, Jim placed two waffles on his plate and drew a thin line of syrup over each one. The sticky sweet smell of maple filled the air and Oswald reached out to take his own food, grabbing one waffle and spreading butter across the uneven squares.

"If your waffles are better than these, I'll make Gabe eat his hat." Oswald snatched the syrup from him as soon as Jim finished with the bottle and poured a small puddle on his plate.

"Wait, now I have to decide on whether I can ever get on Gabe's good side, or lie." He took a bite and almost moaned as cinnamon and the slight bite of cloves burst in his mouth. He swallowed and sighed. "Alright, Gabe's hat is safe. Damn."

Oswald giggled and Jim smiled, shoveling more food in his mouth as he looked at the time. He ate the waffles far faster than they deserved, but Barnes wouldn't take kindly to him being late again. He swiped another waffle from the pile as he shoved his feet into shoes and pulled his jacket on.

"I'll check in on my lunch and redo that bandage, alright?" He checked that his gun and badge were in their proper places before buttoning his jacket.

Oswald swallowed a bite of food and shot Jim a wry smile. "I'll try to make myself invisible, shouldn't be too hard."

Jim chuckled. "Not invisible, just-" He stopped and twisted his back, trying to see if he could work out any other cricks. "Just safe. I'm hoping I can find something sticky on Galavan, so the heat around you dies down."

Oswald played with the small piece of waffle left on his plate, his other hand rubbing at his gunshot. "Sure."

Shaking his head, Jim walked to the table and patted Oswald on the back. "I'll try to get you home as soon as I can."

His small smile of appreciation felt like a brick to the side of Jim's head. He felt worn out from battling Oswald's low opinion of himself all morning. With a final pat to his back, Jim left Oswald to clean up breakfast and find a way to pass the time.  


*******  


“Jim, can you come here please?” Harvey pulled him through the station as soon as he walked through the door, scarfing down the last of the waffle he’d grabbed before walking out the door.

Choking a bit as the waffle stuck in his throat, Jim let Harvey manhandle him through the precinct. "Geez, Harv, what is it?"

Harvey stuffed him into the room next to interrogation and stopped in his tracks at the sight of Barbara, neat and prim as ever, sitting across from Captain Barnes and picking at her nails.

"What is this?" Every bit of food in his stomach seemed to roll as she sighed and stood up, walking over to the glass and tapping on it. He knew she couldn't see him, but he backed away as she approached, the memory of her holding a knife in Lee's apartment still fresh.

"I said I would talk to Jim Gordon and only Jim Gordon." She tapped again on the glass. "Where is Jim?"

Harvey shook his head. "That woman is seriously off her rocker. Could you imagine if you'd actually married her?"

"Shut up, Harvey."

His partner clapped him on the back. "Still a sore subject, I get it.” Harvey shot him a look of sympathy. “I was sorry to hear about you and Lee."

Jim crossed his arms and looked at his feet. "Yeah, me too."

"I thought you two were solid," Harvey continued, both of them watching Barbara tap on the glass and walk around the room while Barnes kept talking at her. "Going to tell me what happened?"

The total truth would force Harvey to throw him in Arkham, as an inmate, so Jim hunched his shoulders and kept his eyes on the one way glass. "She wanted me to make a choice, and I did, and she wasn't happy about it."

Harvey patted his back again and sighed. "Chicks, right?"

Jim smiled as best as he could, a crooked, self-conscious thing that hurt his face. “Did Barnes say whether I could go in?”

“No. In fact, I think his exact words were, ‘don’t let Jim in here’ and I know he’s a regular kidder that one, but I think he was serious this time.” Harvey headed to the door. “Good thing I was having a coffee break when you got in and never got the chance to tell you.”

Jim managed a real smile this time. “Thanks, Harv.”

The door creaked open and Barnes looked up, glaring as Jim entered the room. “What are you doing here? I said you weren’t to come in here!”

“Hello, Jim,” Barbara said, cooing like she’d received the best present on Christmas morning. “I’ve missed you.”

“Hello, Barbara.” Jim smiled and turned to Barnes. “I didn’t think keeping me from the room was helping matters.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Barnes said, his face turning red. “I want you out.”

“I’m not talking to anyone but Jim. And I have all the time in the world.” Barbara sat back down and leaned against her chair.

Barnes growled and huffed, but still walked to the door. “If I don’t like what I’m hearing, I’m throwing her in Arkham.”

Jim nodded and closed the door after him.

Returning to the table, he took a seat and carefully folded his hands. “Hi, Barbara.”

“How are you, Jim?” She asked, her eyes so full of concern that Jim’s skin crawled. “You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping.”

He knew the room was monitored, every conversation recorded, and there was no way he could say why he’d got little to no sleep last night. He couldn’t say that Oswald was a restless sleeper and banged against walls and kept waking him up. He couldn’t say that his own brain kept flashing him images of what Oswald looked like all tangled up in his sheets and blankets.

“I’ve been stressing over my caseload,” Jim said instead, falling back on a familiar lie. “You know how I get.”

Barbara giggled and leaned forward. “I remember all right. Do you still de-stress the same way? Lee keeping up with you?”

Her leering smile gave him the creeps, but Jim smiled back. “Lee is just fine, thank you for asking.” He opened the file in front of him, a dossier on Barbara and her associates. “Care to fill me in on this?”

She looked down, her eyes filling with tears. “I don’t know what to do, Jim.”

Watching her cry and mumble, Jim wondered how she thought anyone would buy this act. He had to pretend, get her to open up. Walking around the table, he leaned in and kissed her, a soft kiss like he used to give her when they were still dating.

Her eyes lit up as he pulled back.“I want to tell you everything, but first, I want to show you something.”

“What is it?” Jim said, leaning forward and placing his hand on hers. “Just tell me.”

She shook her head. “I have to show you.”

Jim looked at the glass where Barnes and Harvey were sure to be standing. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He moved to the door and Barbara followed him. She placed a hand on his cheek and leaned in and he let her, the smell of her perfume familiar and the press of her lips against his like a memory.

“Thank you, Jim.” Her bright smile didn’t reach her eyes, but he pretended not to notice.

Barnes stood outside the room when he came out, pulling him along until they were next to Jim’s desk. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m gaining her trust.” Jim pulled at his tie and looked at his desk, frowning at the mess. “She has information, I know it and I want it. Let me take her for a drive.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s our best shot,” Jim said, throwing up his arms. “She’s been in the belly of the beast in all of this and she has answers. If we could get something to stick to Galavan-”

“Mayor Galavan is standing behind us in the search for The Penguin, Detective Gordon.” Barnes crossed his arms and scowled.

“Of course, he is,” Jim shot back. “It takes the pressure off of him.” He leaned in close. “Give me and the team a couple of hours. I know Galavan’s dirty. I need a way to prove it, though.”

“Boss, it’s two hours with Jim out of your metaphorical hair.” Harvey came up behind Barnes and gave Jim a wink. “If he doesn’t find anything then he’ll focus on Penguin.” Having said his piece, Harvey stepped over to his desk and sat down. “Isn’t that right, Jimbo?”

Jim nodded, willing to promise anything so long as he had a chance to get something on Theo Galavan and his plans for Gotham.

Barnes wrinkled his brow, but waved over Pinkney. “Load up the hummer and follow them. At the first sight of trouble, you pull them out of there. They better be back here in two hours and I want a radio on them at all times.” Barnes turned to Jim. “The minute I think this is going sideways, I’m pulling the plug. Understood?”

“Thank you, sir,” Jim said, shooting Harvey a mouthed thank you before rushing off to set up the transport.

 

*******

 

He should have seen it coming, the carefully laid out route, the closed quarters, and the curious little smile Barbara gave him, right before the truck hit his side of the car. He faded in and out of consciousness, looking for Barbara as everything spun in circles around him. The last thing he remembered was Harvey’s prone body lying across the steering wheel.

Waking up with his arms tied behind his back and a pounding in his head, Jim rolled his neck to the side and looked around. He was in a church, a large cathedral with stained glass windows and a platform covered in candles. He saw a priest tied to a chair up front and he blinked sweat from his eyes. Footsteps echoed behind him, but he couldn’t turn his head that far and it wasn’t until she whispered in his ear that he realized Barbara had him at her mercy. He pulled on his restraints and she laughed.

“Well, it’s about time you woke up, we were getting bored just waiting around.” Barbara stepped into his line of sight wearing a large, volumous wedding dress and carrying a shotgun. There was a madness behind her eyes and Jim struggled against his bonds.

“What is this?” He wanted her distracted, and it worked, her words spilling out about getting married, about the church and the dress and the ceremony.

She wiggled her gun in his face. “You knew it was a trap and you came anyway. You couldn’t help yourself. ‘Let the bad guys take their best shot, I’m Jim Gordon. I’ll find a way to win’.” She giggled. “Or die, guess it’s option ‘B’ for you.”

“I don’t want to die,” Jim said, keeping his hands moving while he stared her down.

Barbara scoffed. “Liar. That’s all you are, a liar who can’t figure out who he is. Let’s see if Lee knows.”

Jim shook his head, but the sound of another chair being rolled up dashed his hopes and he looked over at Lee sitting next to him, tied up with tape over her mouth and murder in her eyes. She screamed against her gag and Barbara rolled her eyes.

Walking over, she pulled the tape off of Lee’s mouth. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

“I said, why am I here?” Lee coughed a few times and glared up at Barbara. “I’m late for a haircut.”

Looking over at Jim, Barbara gave him a shocked look. “She’s so tough!”

Jim glared at her. “You were never going to give us any information, were you. This was all a big lie. You lie, like everyone else.”

“That’s not very nice,” Barbara said with a frown.

“You lied about having information on Galavan, just to get me here.” Jim could feel the ropes around his hands fraying as he sawed back and forth against the blunt edge of the chair.

“I didn’t lie, because I’m not a liar like you.” She moved close and leaned down, looking him in the eye. “Mayor James is being held in a stash house on China Docks.” She stood up with a smile. “See, there! It’s not a lie.”

Lee groaned and pulled against her ropes. “Yes, you’re so smart. Can I go now?”

Barbara giggled. “What, not going to tell me to leave your man alone? Where’s my feisty girl?”

Lee‘s eyes moved to Jim and she glared at him. “He’s not my man.” The fear in her eyes turned to anger. “All yours, Barb. He seems to like the crazy ones better anyway.”

Jim flinched, but kept his mouth shut, continuing to saw away at his ropes.

Barbara looked his way and grinned. “Sounds like you let another woman down, ol’ Jim. Just can’t stay away from the darkness long enough for a stable relationship?” She picked up her dress and paced in front of them. “Did he tell you what he did to get reinstated at the GCPD?”

Lee sighed and cocked her head. “He killed a man for Penguin, which now, in hindsight, makes a lot of sense.”

Barbara gasped and turned to Jim. “You told the truth! How refreshing.” She tipped her gun over her shoulder and cocked her head. “Still wasn’t enough, though, was it?”

Jim rocked the fraying rope on his chair as Barbara walked closer to Lee, putting her gun down on the chair and pulling a knife from under her dress. Barbara leaned in close, dragging the blade over Lee’s throat. “Why wouldn’t you stay with Jim? Couldn’t find a way to look past all that darkness?”

“Something like that,” Lee said, fear in her eyes as she looked at Jim while Barbara ran the knife over her chin.

Leaning forward, Jim felt the rope give way and he rolled forward, grabbing the gun from Lee’s chair as he stood up. He aimed his gun at Barbara.

“There he is, my little monster,” Barbara said, adoration in her voice.

“You’re sick, Barbara.” He held up his hands. “I don’t want to kill you. Drop the knife.”

“Don’t want to kill me? Jim, you’re lying again.” Her manic smile chilled him to the bone. “You long to kill me.” She stepped closer. “Do it, Jim. Do me.”

“Stop, not another step.” Jim cocked his gun, swallowing bile as he faced down the woman he once loved.

Sirens sounded from outside and Jim could have danced. Barbara heard them as well and sighed, turning and running away. “Kill him!”

Barbara’s henchmen ran into the room and Jim turned his attention to keeping himself alive. The two large men went down without much of a fight, but he ran out of bullets in the shotgun. Rolling on the floor, he pulled one of the dead men’s guns out and fired at the last masked attacker. Hitting her in the shoulder, Jim let her run off as the doors to the church burst open and Harvey and The Strike Force came swarming in.

Jim pointed at Lee, still tied to her chair. “Help her.”

He spared Lee a look of regret and then ran after Barbara. His heart raced as he ran up the steps, the last few moments playing in his mind as he ran. Barbara’s words rang in his head, all her talk about darkness and how he refused to see who he was. It felt like his past life. Ever since he’d tracked down Oswald and nursed him to health, he felt whole again, like he could make space for the darkness through Oswald, his friend in the dark.

Barbara was waiting for him next to a large stained glass window. He tackled her to the ground, but Barbara rolled them both to the window and she crashed through. The glass shattered and he caught her arm before she could fall

“Barbara, hold on.”

“It’s okay, Jim.” She smiled at him and her eyes sparkled, like they used to when he brought home bad movies and good takeout. “Kind of a bad date, huh, baby.”

“Barb, no.” Jim tried to keep his grip, but she let go, her face still staring straight into his as she fell.

Jim watched her as his fellow police officers came up behind him, keeping his eyes locked to hers until she disappeared into the trees.

In the aftermath, he wasn’t surprised that Lee felt obligated to slap him in front of everyone. The looks of pity made him scowl, but Harvey shooed everyone away and Jim sat on the edge of the ambulance as an EMT patched up his cheek. Barbara came out on a gurney, strapped down tight even though she was unconscious.

Harvey snorted. “I guess the trees and bushes broke her fall. She’s still alive.”

The ambulance pulled away and Jim watched the lights flash, thinking back to that sparkle of delight in Barbara’s eyes as she fell.  More cops milled around the scene, but he took the ice-pack off the back of his head and thanked the EMT.

“China Docks.” Jim motioned to the Humvee sitting by the curb. “Let’s go.”

 

*******

 

The warehouse was dark as the unit entered, but Jim could hear something rattling around in the back of the building. He brought over the team and shone his flashlight down on a man with his head trapped in a large box. When they opened the box to reveal Mayor Aubrey James, Jim could have kissed the man. They brought him to the station where he told of Galavan’s capture of him and the days of torture at the hands of his sister, Tabitha. Grabbing Harvey, Jim flipped the lights on in the car and sped down the streets to Galavan’s penthouse.

He felt vindicated and full of fury at the information from the former mayor. The man who’d waltzed into Gotham and tried to be it’s new hero, was here to destroy it instead. He had proof and he didn’t want to wait until morning. As he drove through the dark streets, he focused on his goal, to see Theo Galavan behind bars. He pictured Oswald’s face, trying to decide if the vengeful man would be happy or annoyed at the idea of Galavan in prison.

_I was supposed to call, shit._

Jim slowed down and pulled out his phone, hitting the number for his apartment while keeping his eyes on the road. It rang a few times before someone picked up, speaking in a strange guttural accent.

“It’s me,” Jim said, glancing over at Harvey who seemed absorbed in whatever app he was currently using to find women.

“Jim, you said you would check in over four hours ago.” Oswald’s hissing voice sounded like music to his ears after the day Jim had been through.

“I got kidnapped, you know how it goes.” Jim looked over to see Harvey give him a questioning look. “I’ll call you back once I’ve taken care of something. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Oswald hung up on him again and Jim shook his head, wondering where he’d learned his shady phone skills.

Rain fell in curtains outside the car as Jim pushed the car faster, hydroplaning around curves while Harvey held on to the dash.

“Hey! Watch the trash cans!”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m ready for this to be over.” He screeching to a halt outside the tall building where Galavan’s penthouse was located.

“Who was that?” Harvey asked as they hopped out of the car, the rain bouncing off the rim of his hat. “On the phone.”

“A friend.” Jim pulled his coat up over his head and ran for the door, Harvey on his tail.

“I’m your only friend,” Harvey said with a laugh. “You trying a rebound girl?”

Jim scoffed. “I’ve sworn off relationships for a bit.” Getting a key from the front desk was as simple as flashing his badge and Jim ran to the elevator doors. Hitting the up button, Jim bounced on the toes of his shoes and counted the seconds.

“I’m not talking a relationship, I’m talking a little rebound action. Get Lee off your mind.” Taking his hat off and shaking it to remove the excess water, Harvey wiggled his eyebrows.

The sound of the elevator ding and the swoosh of the opening doors sent a spark of excitement through Jim’s heart.

_We are so close. So close._

“I think I’ll focus on work, thanks, though.” As the doors of the elevator closed, Jim patted Harvey on the back. “Don’t worry, Harv, you’ll have much better luck without me in the picture.”

Harvey laughed. “I do just fine, Jimbo.” He straightened his hat as the elevator pulled to a stop. “Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”

Drawing their guns, Jim and Harvey entered the penthouse. They found Galavan in his study with Bruce Wayne, throwing something in the fireplace. Bruce dove for the fire, but Jim pulled him away while he kept his gun trained on Galavan.

“Theo Galavan, you’re under arrest for the kidnap and torture of Mayor James.” With his hands full with Bruce, the boy still struggling to get to the fireplace, Jim let Harvey read Galavan his rights while he handcuffed him.

Satisfaction filled his chest as they walked Galavan out of the door in handcuffs, Harvey dragging him to a police car waiting outside. More officers swarmed the building and Harvey sent them upstairs to gather evidence while Jim took Bruce back to his waiting limo.

“What were you doing here?” Jim asked, fear turning his words sharper than he had intended.

Bruce shook his head, tears rolling down his eyes. “That file, that was my link. He said he had information on my parents’ murderer.”

“Look, that file was probably a fake. A prop he was using to get what he wanted, alright?” Jim gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You need to go home and get some rest. Do you want me to call Alfred?”

“No,” Bruce said, wiping at his eyes. “I can manage. Thank you.” He slid into the seat of the limo and offered Jim a small smile. “I’m glad you showed up.”

“You and me both, kid.”

Jim stayed to see some of the evidence collected from Galavan’s suite, but a nagging voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Oswald, told him to go home. Looking around the penthouse, all the trappings of wealth that painted Theo Galavan as a man to be reckoned with, and all he wanted to do was go home and see Oswald, tell him that they got Galavan.

“Harv, I’m heading out,” Jim said, his voice low in the activity around them.

Harvey looked him up and down and nodded. “Sure thing. I’d advise some sleep or a lay, whichever helps.”

Jim smirked at Harvey’s well meaning, if somewhat crude nature. “See you tomorrow.”

 


	4. Friend Like Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim fights with his growing affection and then with some hit men and all in all, he's had a really rough week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) who's a wonderful beta and person.  
> All other mistakes are my own.
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

 

 

The drive home was quiet and Jim reflected on the notion that his brain accepted that word for his grimy little apartment a little easier, now that he had someone to go home to. The twisted and strange relationship he had with Oswald, no matter how one-sided he tried to make it, propped him up in this city and gave him strength. He could breathe easier with Galavan behind bars, but walking into his home, that was only a home because of Oswald, made his heart race.

As he opened the door to his little apartment, Jim stared in shock. His boxes were nowhere to be seen and the living room glowed with freshly cleaned surfaces and the smell of lemon filled the air. There was a bouquet of flowers on his coffee table and his bookshelves held actual books, not just random coffee cups and forgotten ornaments of his youth.

“Oswald?”

“In the kitchen.” The voice floated out into the space and Jim felt his heart pound in his chest.

He knew, of course he knew, that Oswald thought of him in terms outside the realm of friendship. The long looks, the eagerness to please, he’d used that knowledge on more than one occasion to get what he wanted. The idea that those looks, those moments of standing just a bit too close, could manifest as something soft and pure, hit him in the chest and he couldn’t breathe.

He walked into the kitchen and found Oswald leaning over a skillet on the stove, the smell of meat sizzling hitting his nose at last.

“You… cleaned. “ Jim put his bag on one of his rickety dining chairs and looked around the kitchen.

Signs of cleaning were clear in this room as well, his microwave looked white, instead of the faint yellow color it had collected over time, and the counter-tops gleamed in the soft light.

Oswald turned around and the force of his smile hit Jim like a wrecking ball. “It’s not good to leave me bored, Jim.” He brandished his spatula like a knife. “Or worried.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Jim said with a sigh, willing his heart to calm down and stop sending his brain messages it didn’t need. “It’s been an interesting day.”

Oswald nodded. “A kidnapping is an acceptable excuse for not calling.” He turned back to his skillet. “Who kidnapped you? How did you escape?”

Jim told him the story, leaning against the counter while Oswald shuffled around the kitchen, even accepting a bottle of beer from the newly cleaned fridge. He reached the end and watched Oswald carefully as he told him about Galavan’s arrest. Oswald stared at the food in the pan, reaching down and shutting off the stove as his face crinkled in thought.

“What’s going to happen when he gets out?”

“He won’t get out,” Jim said, hoping his confident tone would be the end of it.

Oswald scoffed, moving to the cupboards and pulling out plates. “He’s rich, he’s powerful, he’s smart. I have faith in you, Jim, not so much in our judicial system.”

Jim sighed and grabbed the plates, adding silverware to the pile and moving to the table. “I know. We have a witness, though, a man who was kidnapped and tortured by Galavan. That’s more than I thought we would have.”

Bringing over the food, two steaks and a mound of steamed vegetables with butter melting on the top, Oswald placed the dishes on the table and sank into his chair. “I want him dead.”

“He’s in prison, Oswald.” Jim took his own seat and brushed his hand over his face. “Let the system do what it’s supposed to, alright?” He reached out for Oswald’s hand, not caring that he’d never made such a gesture before. “Trust me, please.”

“Why?” Oswald asked, his tone sullen and strained. “What are you getting out of this?”

“Besides dinner?” His easy grin didn’t placate Oswald.

“Every time you ask for my help, you turn around and dismiss me as soon as you get what you want.” Oswald picked up his fork and stabbed a carrot with vicious energy. “How long are you going last this time, huh?”

Jim looked down at his food, the smell tantalizing even as his stomach twisted and churned. He hadn’t been the only one noticing their patterns, Oswald was a good detective in his own right, even if he used his skills in an unsavory manner. The heart of the matter was, Jim didn’t know how long he would last, but the fact that he wanted this time to be different, had to count for something.

_So tell him that. Don’t be the ass like every other time before. You’ve looked death in the eye for him and you’re afraid of a little heart to heart?_

“I’m not, I’m going to try not to run away this time,” Jim said, the clear sound of his voice battling with the lump in his throat. “I know, okay? I know.” He looked up at Oswald and let every tiny piece of shame he carried in his bones show through his eyes. The daily grind at his soul to keep moving forward. This time, it was Oswald who reached out and clasped Jim’s hand in his own.

“You know, everytime I came to you for help, I told myself that it was the last time. Every time, I’d have this talk with myself about how I just needed your help for this one thing and then, that was it. I was done.” He took a sip of water and cleared his throat. “I knew it was a lie, though. It was always easier to run from that lie, instead of acknowledge the truth.”

“And what truth is that?” Oswald asked, not looking up from his food.

“That I work better with you, than against you. That you’re a criminal and a mobster and still the only other person in this god forsaken city that still might give a damn about it.” Jim cut into his steak and took a bite of the warm meat. His words broke over the table like rain heavy clouds unleashing their burden from the sky. Oswald looked pale, but his eyes sparkled as he stared at Jim.

“A friend in the dark?” Oswald asked, the tension in his voice so hopeful that Jim wanted to lean across the table and run his hands across that half open mouth.

Instead, he nodded, not trusting his voice to give him away, and turned his full attention to his meal. The silence felt comfortable, and the only sounds that followed were the scraping of utensils across their plates. Once the food was gone, Oswald stood up to clear the table.

“Nope, you cooked, I clean. Go sit it down and rest.” Jim pointed towards the living room. “You’ve been aggravating that wound too much.”

“This mother hen act is aggravating,” Oswald countered.

“You would know,” Jim retorted and gave him a push towards the couch. “I’ll redress that wound as soon as I’m done cleaning up.”

Oswald nodded and headed to the couch, turning at the last second to catch Jim by the arm. “I’ll wait. I could have him slaughtered in prison or shot during a transfer, you know this.”

“I know.” Jim waited for Oswald to continue.

“But I’ll wait. Not because I trust the system, but because I’m counting on it to fail.” Oswald slid closer and a devilish smile graced his lips. “When it does, I’ll kill him myself and I won’t let you stop me, clear?”

“Clear,” Jim said, leaning forward until they were nose to nose. “I’ll do my best to see him behind bars for the rest of his life. I’ll make sure he knows that it’s the safest place for him.”

“Do that.”

 _Too close,_ Jim thought as he stared into Oswald’s green eyes and tried not to blink. His mind focused on the clear color, the soft edges of his iris that softened in the middle and captivated people like the swaying gaze of a snake. He stepped back and smiled.

“Couch,” he said, turning Oswald around.

His hands burned from touching Oswald, but he wiped them on his slacks and headed into the kitchen. Cleaning took no time, the food stashed in the fridge and the plates and silverware drying on the rack by the sink while Jim’s mind still raced with what had almost happened.

_I almost kissed him. Holy shit. I can’t do this. I can’t. The faster Galavan is found guilty, the faster he can go back to his world and stop disrupting mine._

_Distracting me with eyes that see too much and that mouth that he hasn’t learned to control, all hot temper and cool hands, and I need to stop thinking about this._

The thoughts still swirled like a maelstrom as he carried the first aid kit into the living room and found Oswald curled under a blanket reading his copy of The Dawn Patrol, by Don Winslow. Oswald was a study in opposites, a dangerous man with beautiful taste, a sensitive soul with a foul temper. And he’s beautiful, even with that tarnished heart of his.

Jim shook his head and cleared his throat, making enough noise that Oswald would notice his arrival. “Hey, you ready?”

Oswald pulled down the blanket and Jim saw that he’d already unbuttoned his shirt, the old bandage clearly ready to be changed.

“Maybe you were right,” Oswald said with a sigh.

“I’m often right,” Jim said, kneeling beside him. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“I’d laugh, but it hurts.” Oswald poked Jim in the shoulder. “I shouldn’t have done so much today.”

Nodding in understanding, Jim peeled off the old bandage and inspected the wound. “It looks like you irritated it, but there’s no infection setting in, so that’s good.” He cleaned and placed a new bandage on the wound, keeping his movements as clinical as possible, ignoring the slight tremor in his hands as he skimmed his fingertips across Oswald’s smooth skin.

“Glad I’ll live?” Oswald said, his teasing voice light and mocking.

“Yes,” Jim said with a solemn voice, the tone catching Oswald’s attention. “I told you, I’m going to try this time.”

Oswald visibly swallowed. “I appreciate it.”

Giving him a slight nod, Jim picked up his supplies and disposed of the trash. The apartment glowed with moonlight, the soft beams mixing with the yellow cast of Jim’s cheap bulbs. He wanted to wrap himself in its warmth and never leave. Giving into being Oswald’s friend should have been hard, a blow to the moral compass he tried so hard to follow, but it was as easy as the word yes. He felt buoyant and calm, like a weight was gone and he could feel the world around him with more clarity. He settled back on the couch and watched the flickering lights of Gotham through his grimy window and tried to reconcile the idea that here, in this room with Oswald, he felt less alone than he’d ever felt before.

“Jim, are you alright?”

Jim looked over at Oswald and smiled, full as he could. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” Oswald shifted and frowned. “This is a horrible couch, Jim. How do you sleep on it?”

“I don’t,” Jim said with a sigh, looking around the small room. “I’m going to try the floor tonight.”

Oswald’s face took on a pink hue. “I don’t mean to deprive you of your bed.”

“It’s okay. You’ve got injuries to heal from.” Jim patted the thin carpet of the floor. “I’ve slept on worse.”

“Yes,” Oswald said, his voice far away. “So have I. We could share, you know. That’s something friends do.”

“Um, usually not beds, though,” Jim said with a cough, feeling his own face turn red. “Really, I’ll be fine. It’s only for a few more days anyway. You’re getting better and this is almost over.”

“A few more days before things go back to normal?” Oswald asked, raising an eyebrow in Jim’s direction.

“Some things will go back to normal,” Jim retaliated. “Some, I am very happy to say, will never be the same.”

It felt good to see Oswald turn red and shake his head. Jim wanted Oswald to believe in what he was saying, but it would take time and patience. Jim had plenty of time, with Galavan in jail, and he silently promised to make the most of it.

Watching Oswald yawn and stretch, Jim patted his shoulder and waved at the bedroom. “Get some sleep, alright?”

Oswald nodded and pushed himself off the couch, turning around to hold his hand out to Jim. “I can’t promise that I don’t kick in my sleep, but the bed has to be more comfortable than the floor, and it’s only for a few days, right?”

Jim stared at the outstretched hand and back to Oswald’s tense face. His instincts told him that this wasn’t easy for Oswald, that he was trying as well.

“Fine, but if you kick me, I kick you and then no one gets any sleep.” Jim stood on his own, giving Oswald a pointed look that he ignored.

*******

The sun through the curtains was warm and bright and Jim opened his eyes with a groan, wishing the light would leave him alone. A warm body pressed closer to him, stretching out along his side, and Jim looked down in confusion. Oswald was nestled against him, his head buried in the pillows but his arm draped across Jim's waist, their legs tangled together.

Jim looked back towards the window and tried to slow his breathing, no sense in panicking over what happened while they slept.

With careful movements, Jim tried to shuffle out of Oswald's hold, hoping he stayed asleep and they never had to face the fact that they'd ended up spooning sometime in the night. The sound of his phone ringing shattered that hope as Oswald woke up with a start, his arms up and ready for battle.

"Who's there?" He asked, anger and fear in his sleep-roughened voice.

Jim pushed his arms down. "It's my phone. I need to go grab it."

Oswald nodded, but didn't move.

"So you need to let go," Jim said with a gentle nudge to Oswald's left leg.

Oswald looked down and blushed so red that Jim could count every freckle that stood out on his normally pale face. Shimmying back from Jim's side, Oswald pulled himself to a sitting position and waved Jim away.

Jim chuckled and yawned before reaching for his phone and hitting the answer button. "This better be important."

"Get over to the Galavan penthouse, now." Barnes’ harsh voice made him want to groan. When Barnes was in a mood like this, it usually meant something bad for Jim.

"Did something happen?" Jim asked, sliding out of bed and walking to the bathroom.

Barnes grunted. "Yeah, a whole lot of not finding anything. Get over here and take a look for yourself. If we don’t find anything, all we have is the testimony of a man who would sell out his grandmother for better tickets to a baseball game."

Groaning at his reflection in the mirror, Jim calculated how long it would take him to shower and leave. "Give me twenty minutes."

"You’ve got fifteen." Barnes hung up and Jim gave his reflection a glare.

He went back to the bedroom to find Oswald nestled back in the blankets, his black hair peeking out from the dark green bedspread. "I gotta go. I'm gonna shower and take off before Barnes comes looking for me."

Oswald huffed and dragged the blanket down so that Jim could see his face. "No rest for the righteous, is that how it is?"

Grinning at Oswald's disgruntled appearance, Jim snagged a new set of clothes from the open boxes and headed back to the bathroom. "I guess that means plenty of rest for the wicked." He gave Oswald a wink and closed the door.

Grinning at Oswald's disgruntled appearance, Jim snagged a new set of clothes from the open boxes and headed back to the bathroom. "I guess that means plenty of rest for the wicked." He gave Oswald a wink and closed the door.

_Why did I do that? He's trapped here, missing his mother, feeling depressed, and I'm flirting? What the fuck?_

Jim wanted to bang his head against the wall, but the noise would attract attention that he didn't want to deal with. His conflicted thoughts on Oswald would have to wait until he could lock Theo Galavan behind bars and drive off with a smile.

_You have conflicting feelings about The Penguin, Gotham's major crime lord. What is wrong with you?_

He didn't expect an answer, he hadn't been able to come up with a valid reason since that first spark lit between them and he'd pushed it down, trying to snuff it out like a candle. Starting the shower and hopping into the warming stream, he leaned his head against the cool tile and took a deep breath.

_It's still there. That buzz under my skin when I'm near him. That tickle in my stomach that scares me so damn much that I panic and yell and push him away. It's still there and I don't want to push away anymore._

Feeling the warm water cascade down his back, Jim gave in to the trapped emotions lurking in his heart and tears slipped down his face from the strength of letting go. He wanted Oswald, his smile, his laugh, his weird way of talking, his earnest helpful nature and the rage that lived just under the surface.

_He just lost his mother. Get it together._

Jim swallowed hard and turned his face into the water, washing in quick movements and waiting for his heart to stop leaping in his chest. Admitting was the first step, according to Jim's older brother, and now he could go over all the reasons it would be a horrible idea to let Oswald know how he felt.

_I can't make a relationship work with a normal person, how do I even go about starting one with someone like Oswald?_

_Why am I even thinking about it?_

"Jim, are you alright?"

He looked down at his watch and cursed, the time slipping away from him as he came to grips with his new reality. "Yeah, I'm good. Lost track of time." He shut off the shower, dried and dressed in record time, and snatched his gun and badge and wallet off the dresser.

"I'm going to come back here as soon as we're done at Galavan's," Jim said, slipping his gun into its holster. "You think you can get Gabe to pick up some clothes and such?"

"I'll go through a local delivery service," Oswald said, still lying in the bed and watching Jim scramble around the room. "Less conspicuous than Gabe."

"Smart," Jim checked his pockets and nodded. "Okay, I'm gone." He reached over and gave Oswald a kiss on the cheek. "Be back later."

He was halfway to the door before he realized what he'd done, but Jim didn't stop to turn around; he let his mortification follow him out the door and onto the busy streets.

*******

Jim arrived at the building and waved to the officers guarding the door. They stared at him, but didn’t say a word and he shook his head at the hostility. No matter how he tried, there were always some people who missed the good old days of bribes and rampant corruption. He entered the elevator and a man carrying a leather case stepped in after him and hit the close button. He gave him a smile and settled against the back of the elevator. His mind switched back to this morning and the kiss he'd given Oswald as he left.

_I hope he doesn't read anything into it._

_This is Oswald, he'll read everything into it and you'll have to tell him you didn't mean it._

_He'll understand._

Jim groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. He could hope all he wanted that Oswald would understand, but with the way things were going, he wouldn't be surprised if he got stabbed.

"Girl trouble?"

Looking over at the tall stranger, Jim shook his head.

"Guy trouble?" The man gave him a smile. "No judgment here."

Jim shrugged. "It'll work out."

"Sure, sure," the man said, holding up his bag. "I fix pianos, not relationships. You seemed a little upset, though."

"It's nothing." Jim kept his eyes forward, not wanting to converse with someone over the intricacies of his relationship or lack thereof with a total stranger.

The man dug in his bag for something and pulled out a sweet. “Caramel?”

“No thanks,” Jim said, hoping that was the end of the interaction.

“You’re missing out, they’re good.” He went back into his bag and Jim tried to ignore him, wishing the elevator would hurry up and get him to Galavan’s suite.

Jim barely had time to get his arms up before the man looped a wire around his head and pulled it tight. The thin metal cut into his hands, but Jim concentrated on not letting it wrap around his neck. Kicking backwards, he took out the man's knee and dropped to below the deadly noose. Fighting in a small elevator, Jim knew he had a disadvantage and he struggled to keep the man from regaining a hold on him. Getting in front of him, he grabbed the man’s bag and shoved it into his face, pounding his fist into the bag until the man slumped to the floor. Breathing heavy and keeping his head between his knees, Jim waited for his heart to stop pounding. He stared at the man's unconscious body, his mind racing with why some random fellow in an elevator had tried to kill him. The doors to the elevator slid open and Jim dragged the body from the elevator, through the empty halls, and into the penthouse suite swarming with police. Barnes stared at him and his assailant.

"Who the hell is this?” Barnes asked, his eyes accusing.

Jim snorted. "I have no idea, but he tried to kill me, with this." He held up the garrote. "I think he's a professional hitman."

"Any idea why?” Barnes took the weapon and stretched it out, the twang of piano wire against the air vibrated through the room.

"My guess," Jim said, holding out the bloodied wire. "I put Galavan in jail and someone wants revenge."

A phone started ringing and Jim looked at the man on the floor. He searched through the man's pockets and pulled up a ringing flip phone. Hitting the answer button, Jim waited for the person on the other end to start talking. His heavy breathing must have given him away because whoever was on the other line hung up without speaking.

Jim stared it, a brief flicker in his mind towards Oswald and his plan to return by lunch.

_I hope getting attacked by trained killers is also a valid excuse for not calling._

Stress put the rest of Jim’s day in a mild light. When his first attacker woke up, they learned that more men were on the way, and that more would keep coming until the job was done. They had no backup, just a forensic scientist and a rookie police officer to help against a flood of professional hitmen. Three more killers arrived and chaos erupted in the building, the forensic guy falling to one of their knives before Jim could help, but with Barnes and Officer Parks, they were able to take down the attackers.

“We need to go. We aren’t going to survive another attack before back up gets here.” Barnes walked to the door.

“I’m not leaving,” Jim said, looking around the room and trying to catalog every item.

Barnes turned back around. “That wasn’t a request.”

“Sir, if we leave, they are going to come here and destroy everything we might find on Galavan.”

Barnes scowled and walked closer. “You’re just looking for a fight, aren’t you?” He turned to Officer Parks. “Go make sure the staircase is clear.”

She took off for the hall and Barnes turned his full attention back to Jim. “I’ve got a civilian who’s dead, a rookie scared half out of her mind. You think we’re going to make it through another attack with just a few handguns?” He held up his weapon. “We have to get out of here.”

As Barnes walked away, Jim looked at the crumbling wall where he’d thrown one of the hitmen and noticed a crevice inside. “Wait.” He reached up and pulled more debris from the broken wall. “A monk’s cassock?”

Barnes came closer, looking at the strange garment in the wall. A gunshot echoed through the room and they both ducked. Looking around the room, Jim stared in shock as Victor Zsasz walked in and waved. He pointed at the man on the floor, a bullet hole in his head and his knife still clutched in his fist.

“Someone was trying to get paid.” Zsasz picked up the knife and examined it before throwing it into the wreckage of the wall with a sneer. “Not even a decent weapon.”

Jim raised his gun and pointed it at Zsasz. “Are you here to finish the job?”

Zsasz gave him a sad look. “Jim, my dear, if I’d wanted you dead, I’d already be collecting my bounty.”

Barnes kept his gun trained on Zsasz, but Jim lowered his weapon.

"Gordon, what are you doing?" Barnes hissed.

Jim looked between Barnes and Zsasz. "He's not here to kill us. He might be many things, but I've never known Zsasz to lie about whether or not he can kill me."

"Oh, Jimmy, you're learning." Zsasz smiled and touched his temple with his gun. "You look like shit, though."

Jim laughed and pointed to the wall. "I've been having a bit of a night."

Zsasz laughed as well and then left to sweep the room, patting Barnes on the head as he passed. Giving Jim a concerned look, Barnes lowered his gun and walked to the hall.

"Parks, get in here," He said, waving down the officer.

She returned to the room and he pointed at the wall. "Find a bag and stuff that into it. I want to figure out why this was hidden."

Thanking whatever spirits were watching over him, Jim left Barnes and Parks to collect the evidence and stalked after Zsasz.

"Why are you here? Who sent you?" Jim asked, keeping his voice low.

Zsasz laughed and gave a chirp. "A little bird told me you were in trouble." He glanced at Barnes and Parks. "Do your friends know who's hiding under your bed?"

"If they did, I wouldn't be standing here," Jim said with a growl.

Zsasz shrugged. "None of my business, so long as I get paid. How did you manage to piss off The Lady?"

Tilting his head, Jim furrowed his brow. "The Lady?"

"Oh, well never mind about her," Zsasz said with a bright smile. "I'm sure it will work out."

He kept searching the room, pulling back curtains and tipping over couch cushions. "Word on the street is a powerful tool. Lucky for you, our mutual friend likes you alive." Zsasz gave Jim a little bow. "So here I am."

Smiling at his feet, Jim gave a small huff of indignation. He wanted to wheedle more information out of the assassin, but his pocket rang and he pulled it out his phone, opening it with a flick of his wrist. “Gordon.”

“This is your backup, how are things looking up there?”

He sighed in relief. “Good so far, we have one man down. Do you have EMT’s with you?”

“Ambulance is still inbound.”

Jim opened his mouth and then froze as the officer was cut off by the sound of gunfire. “Officer?”

More gunshots rang out and then a new voice answered the phone. “Hola, detective Gordon I presume?”

“Who is this?” Anger rushed through his veins as he turned to where a monitor was set up to watch the perimeter. He saw a man standing by a police cruiser, the dead bodies of his fellow police officers draped across the hood.

“Who is this?”

“My name is Eduardo Flamingo.”

“Is that name supposed to mean anything to me?” His hand clenched around the phone and the need to punch something grew stronger.

“Not yet,” the man said, staring up into the camera. “But it will. I’ll be upstairs in a few minutes. I’m going to feast on your friends first, save you for dessert. You try to run, I will find you.”          

“I won’t,” Jim growled. “In fact, I’m coming down.”

He hung up the phone and looked at Barnes who pulled him away from the monitors. "What the hell is going on down there?"

“We have another hitman.” Jim pulled away from Barnes. “I’m going down there.”

“Like hell you are!” Barnes shouted, pointing at the police cars. "He just took out four cops!"

"He's after me, sir." Jim patted him on the back. "And I won't be going alone." He looked over at Zsasz, the strange man now standing on the kitchen table with his hands tucked behind his back. "You have to protect me, right?"

"That's the gig," Zsasz said with a smirk. "You planning on throwing yourself into danger like the rest of us?"

Jim grinned. "Something like that."

Barnes grabbed his hand. "Jim, you don't have to do this. We can wait for him to come to us."

"We're sitting ducks up here," Jim returned. "I want this over, please, sir."

Barnes looked at Zsasz and then back at Jim with a worried frown, but at last his shoulders dropped. "Go."

Jim waved to Zsasz. "Let's go."

Jumping down from the table, Zsasz blew a kiss at Officer Parks and followed Jim out into the hall, marching beside him as they entered the elevator. Jim let the doors close in silence, but as soon as the elevator started moving, he turned to Zsasz.

"Do you think he gave away where he was?" Jim asked, not caring that his tone betrayed how concerned he was. “Is he still safe?”

“Wow, detective,” Zsasz said with a hand to his heart. “I wasn’t aware you cared.” Staring at Jim in confusion, Zsasz must have seen something in his eyes. “He’s not compromised. I wouldn’t allow it. That sneaky sister of Galavan’s wasn’t quite sneaky enough and our friend still has allies in the Gotham underground.” He pulled out another gun and pointed both of his weapons at the door. “Are you going in blazing or are you more the sneak up behind and hit him on the head kind of guy?”

Jim pulled out his gun. “I’m the ‘find him and arrest him’ kind of guy.”

“Shame, the Flamingo eats people. Its gross.” Zsasz shuddered. “It’s like no one has an appreciation for talents these days. There’s always a gimmick.”

Jim shook his head at the elevator door opened.

_Maybe Lee’s right. I do attract the wackos in this town._

The street was quiet, no random pedestrians to gawk at the spectacle and Jim sent a thanks to heaven that there wouldn’t be any innocents in the way. Sparing a moment for the dead officers displayed on their cars, Jim peered around the parked vehicles and waved Zsasz forward. “See if he’s on the other side.”

Zsasz nodded and zigzagged through the columns of the building until he could see the other side of the police cruisers. He shook his head and then pointed at something behind Jim. It was all the warning he received, but it was enough to make him tuck and roll away as a large chain came zipping through the air where his legs used to be. The tall, grinning man from the video feed licked his lips and swung his chain again. Jim looked behind him and rolled again, but Zsasz was nowhere to be seen.

_Of course, he wanders off now that I need his help. It’s always the weird ones._

“Stay still,” Flamingo said, swinging at Jim again. “You need a little tenderizing.”

Jim grabbed the end of the chain and dragged Flamingo forward, headbutting him and kicking at his kneecaps. Flamingo fought like a tiger and bit like one too and Jim managed to stay one step ahead of those gnashing teeth. Finally, he caught him square on the side of the head and bashed him into one of the police cars, the red and blue lights flashing silently as he beat in Flamingo’s face. He kept punching, all his anger and frustration and worry coming out in each swing. Laughter from Flamingo pulled him back from the edge and he stared down at the bloody face in front of him.

“Go on, finish me,” Flamingo said. “I know you can do it.”

“This place would be a lot better if he wasn’t around, gnawing on people.” Zsasz’s voice behind him made Jim jump, but he didn’t turn around.

“That’s not how the law works.” Jim wiped at his face, his blood mixing with the sweat on his brow.

Shaking his head, Zsasz stepped forward and put a bullet through Flamingo’s head. “There, don’t say I never did anything for you.”

Slamming Zsasz into the car, Jim glared at his smiling face. “Victor Zsasz, you’re under arrest-”

An elbow to the stomach and a twist of his arm and Zsasz had his face slammed into the hood of the car. “Oh Jim, I’d love to stay and play, but I have a check to deposit and the banks are closing soon.” He leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You take care of our friend, alright?”

Jim collapsed to the ground as Zsasz let him go and ran off into the night. He watched him go, wondering what would happen if he ever managed to arrest the strange killer.

“Jim, what happened?”

He looked up and saw Barnes headed towards him with Parks on his heels, guns drawn and ready for a fight. Leaning his head back against the cool metal, he sighed and then laughed.

_At least I won’t have to try and explain why I couldn’t call._


	5. Running out of Reasons to Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim gets back to his apartment, bruised and bloody, and Oswald's there to take care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my everlasting thanks to [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) for being my encouraging beta and fantastic friend. :)  
> Any mistakes are all my own.
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

 

Speaking with Barnes about the attack and explaining how Zsasz put a bullet between Flamingo’s eyes (and then waltzed away) only made Jim’s headache worse. At last, Barnes threw his hands in the air and sent him home, telling him to get some rest and take the next day off, because there would be a whole flock of questions waiting for him when he got back. Jim giggled at the ‘flock of questions’ speech and then gulped in horror.

Barnes shook his head and pointed to the door. “Get out.”

Not trusting himself to speak, Jim nodded and exited the building before he made any sort of pun that got him demoted back to traffic cop. Flagging down a taxi, he threw himself into the back seat and rattled off his address. The drive was silent except for the normal buzz of Gotham and Jim watched the tall skyscrapers turn into squat apartments until the taxi pulled up to his building. Paying the driver, Jim opened the security door and groaned as the stairs loomed in front of him.

_I should get a ground floor apartment. Screw the security risks._

He straightened his shoulders and climbed, pulling himself along by the railing and counting the steps to keep his mind focused. As he reached the second landing, his thoughts turned to the night's events and what might have happened if Zsasz hadn’t been there to help. The hitmen were ruthless and it helped to have someone just as ruthless on their side for once. He might not have liked the careless killing of Flamingo, but Zsasz still saved his life and the life of Barnes. Putting his hand to his head, Jim groaned at the lump forming on his temple.

_If Zsasz gave me a concussion, I’m going to tell Oswald on him._

The thought made him laugh, the absurdity of tattling on a world class assassin to the man currently spending all his time cleaning Jim’s apartment. The laughter gave him the strength to bound up the last few steps and collapse outside his door. His back hit the wall with a loud thump and he winced, hoping he didn’t wake any of his neighbors. He heard the lock turning on his door and he stood with a whimper. Even with all the pain coursing through his body, Jim wasn’t about to let Oswald out into the hallway and risk getting caught. When the door cracked open, he waved Oswald back and then stepped inside, closing and locking it in record time.

“You look awful,” Oswald said as Jim slumped to the floor.

“Thanks, I worked on this look all day.” Crawling to the couch, he rolled onto the thin cushions and sighed. “Who knew there were so many different kinds of hitmen?”

Oswald limped over and stared down at him, naked concern on his face as he took in every visible injury. “Are you bleeding anywhere else?”

Jim shrugged and then winced as pain shot through his neck. “I have no idea. As soon as I remember how to use my feet again, though, I’m taking a bath.”

Nodding at the idea, Oswald walked past Jim and into the bedroom. Jim craned his neck and watched him go, not caring about the pain shooting down his spine as he stared at Oswald’s ass.

 _He has a nice ass._  
_That concussion theory is becoming more realistic._  
_He saved my life by sending Zsasz. I’m allowed to be sentimental._

He perked up at the sound of water running in the bathroom. Steam billowed out into the room and Jim groaned, the heat drifting through air and sinking into his skin.

“Are you alright?” Oswald asked, peeking his head around the corner.

Jim nodded and gestured to the bathroom. “Thank you.”

Oswald blushed and shrugged. “Least I can do, right?” His expression turned sad. “It’s what mother would have done.”

Pushing himself up off the couch, Jim shuffled over to the bathroom and laid his head on Oswald’s shoulder. “We’re kind of fucked up, aren’t we?”

Oswald huffed and pushed him off. “Speak for yourself.” He pulled his shirt down and gave a delicate sniff. “I’m incredibly surprised you’re even alive right now. How is it that in two days, you can be kidnapped by your crazy ex-fiance, and then hunted by hitmen hired by the sister of a man you just arrested?”

“It’s been a slow week,” Jim said, pulling at his jacket sleeve and frowning as it refused to do what he wanted.

Grabbing Jim’s sleeve, Oswald pulled it off and turned him around, taking off the offending garment and holding it at arm’s length. “Please tell me I can throw this away.”

“Why? Just put it in the wash.” Jim moved to his buttons, taking time to undo each one with a look of concentration on his face, his tongue sticking out from between his lips as he worked at the plastic contraptions.

“I’m throwing this out, whether you like it or not,” Oswald said, leaving Jim staring after him while he walked to the trash can and dropped the ruined jacket in with a sneer.

Reaching the last button, Jim stripped off his shirt and heard a small gasp from Oswald as he turned around.

“That bad, huh?”

Oswald reached out, running a cold hand down Jim’s exposed back and lightly touching on every scratch and cut. “Your back looks like raw meat.” He touched a spot on Jim’s shoulder. “Some of these look pretty old.”

Jim turned around and undid his belt buckle, causing Oswald to take a step back. “People like throwing me on the ground.”

Wrinkling his nose at Jim’s answer, Oswald wrapped his arms around himself and backed into the wall. He watched Jim struggle with his pants, but didn’t come forward to help.

Once his pants were off, Oswald grabbed the shirt for the laundry, but declared his pants as another a lost cause. They joined the jacket in the trash.

“At this rate, you’re going to throw out my whole wardrobe.” Sticking out his bottom lip, Jim blinked his eyes and pouted, hoping for a little sympathy from the sartorial-minded Oswald.

“I’ll get you a new one,” he said, raising his eyebrow at the tag on Jim’s shirt. “One that doesn’t rely on poly-blend fabric.”

Jim laughed and pulled off the rest of his clothing, his pain overcoming his modesty as he tested the warmth of the water. A sneaky part of him wanted to know how Oswald would react to him, naked and hurting.

_You’re getting too close again._

The moral compass in his head no longer pointed true north and while he still had a small voice of reason, telling him to shove Oswald as far away as he could and run, it was much easier to ignore. He grinned in delight when Oswald squeaked and spun around at the drop of his boxers, facing the door as Jim climbed into the steaming bath with a sigh. The slightly gritty feel of undissolved Epsom Salt on the bottom of the tub brought a smile to his face.

“Is it alright?” Oswald asked. “The salt might sting the cuts, but it will be good for the muscle aches.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jim said, resting his head back and turning to face Oswald. “It doesn’t sting too bad.”

“I’ll grab the first aid kit.” Oswald turned back around and stared at Jim’s face intently, keeping his eyes above the water line. “Some of those cuts on your back look deep.”

“Must have been from rolling around on the street. I didn’t even notice getting them,” Jim said, giving Oswald a small smile. “Too busy not getting pummeled with a chain.”

“A chain?”

“Yeah, some insane cannibal came at me with a chain,” Jim said, shaking his head. “He’s dead now.”

“Good, sounds like the perfect place for him.” Oswald turned to leave.

“Thank you, by the way,” Jim said leaning over the tub to grab Oswald’s sleeve.

“Of course.” Oswald waved at the door. “Let me go grab that kit.”

“Thank you,” Jim said, holding Oswald’s eyes with his own, wanting him to hear every word. “Not just for the bath, but for what you did. I don’t know what would have happened if Zsasz hadn’t shown up. I’m not sure I’d have gotten out of that alive.”

Shrugging his shoulders and giving him a wide smile, Oswald pulled away and Jim let go of his sleeve. “Well, can’t very well lose my favorite detective.” A rosy blush crept into Oswald’s face and Jim stared, mesmerized by the sight.

“Favorite detective?” Jim pondered the term. “I can live with that.” The blush darkened and Jim wanted to see if those freckles reached beyond the edge of Oswald’s shirt.

“I mean, favorite detective who’s saved my life.” Oswald rubbed at his arm and giggled. “Couldn’t let you hold something like that over my head forever.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Jim said, adoring the nervous energy radiating off of Oswald. “But regardless, thank you.” He closed his eyes and slid further into the tub and heard Oswald leave the room with a murmur of something that sounded suspiciously like ‘you’re welcome’.

The heat melted into his skin and muscles, dragging him into relaxation. He felt the air shifting around him as Oswald moved in and out of the bathroom and that tiny little voice of caution said that he could be planning something, like a drowning, to get Jim out of his way. He didn’t listen. He knew better, knew that Oswald couldn’t bear to see him hurt, much less hurt by his own hand. Oswald touched his arm and Jim merely opened his eyes and grinned in response.

“I need you to lean forward.” Oswald’s eyes stayed fixed on his face, like he didn’t dare look down.

Jim took pity on him and did as he was told. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around his legs and laid his head on his knees. “Will I live?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” Oswald said, dipping his hands into the warm water and swishing them around. “Is this a normal thing that happens, or is this week an anomaly that I’m fortunate enough to bare witness to?”

“Hey, my life is no more dangerous than yours,” Jim said, tapping Oswald’s shoulder with a pointed look. “I’m surprised we’re both still alive at this point.”

“At least I don’t go running at the danger.” Wiping his hands on a nearby towel, Oswald dug into the first aid kit while he talked. “You attract trouble, Jim Gordon.”

“Is that why you’re still here?” Jim asked, looking up at Oswald through hooded eyes.

 _A blushing Oswald is the best sight._  
_This is bad. You shouldn’t be thinking like this._  
_I’m tired of running._

Oswald tilted his head and scrunched his face and Jim wanted to kiss him more than anything else in the world.

“I’m here because you tracked me down in the woods and wouldn’t let me leave,” Oswald said, clearing his throat and grabbing a small washcloth from the cupboard.

“I’m not a total idiot then.” Jim reached out and clasped a hand over Oswald’s, smiling at the look of complete shock on his face.

His hands trembled as they washed Jim’s back, a slight waver like Oswald didn’t know whether or not he should touch. Jim closed his eyes again and let the soothing strokes of those small hands push him further into relaxing. The sting of the salty water over his cuts made him hiss.

“Sorry, sorry.” Oswald winced as he shifted to reach a spot on the other side of Jim’s back.

“This is ridiculous,” Jim said, scooting forward and motioning to the spot behind him. “There, get in and stop squirming. I know your leg is killing you, so don’t argue.”

“I’m not sure I should be taking orders from someone with a giant bruise on the side of his head.” Oswald’s familiar snark shot a thread of warmth into Jim’s core that had nothing to do with the heat of the water.

Pulling on Oswald’s shirt, Jim made him look into his eyes. “Oswald, it’s dumb to try and do this with you so far away. We’re not idiots, right?”

Oswald took a ragged breath. “Speak for yourself,” he whispered. “I’m not sure this isn’t the most idiotic thing I’ve ever done.”

“I had to push you off a pier to save your life once,” Jim retorted, raising his eyebrows.

“That was a calculated risk.”

“You’re bad at math. Get in the tub.”

Jim watched through barely open eyes as Oswald carefully took off his shirt and pants, leaving his boxer briefs on as he folded up his borrowed clothing. His pale skin glowed in the shoddy light of the bathroom and Jim took careful note of how far down his freckles traveled. Jim also noted how thin and fragile Oswald felt as he lowered himself into the water. Oswald moved his legs to either side of Jim’s body and continued his careful washing of his wounds. Talking fell to the wayside as the gentle touch of Oswald’s hands mixed with the warm water and Jim felt himself losing time.

“Jim, Jim.”

A soft voice whispered his name and Jim leaned back. “No. I’m comfy.”

“You’re squishing me,” Oswald squeaked, pushing on his shoulder.

Waking up at the realization of where he was, Jim turned bright red and scooted forward. “Sorry, sorry. Fell asleep.”

Using his shoulder for leverage, Oswald crawled out of the tub, standing on the bathmat and dripping. Jim looked him up and down, taking in every inch of exposed skin and swallowing hard at the wave of attraction flowing through him. There wasn’t an inch of Oswald that didn’t excite him, but he didn’t want to scare him. Breathing in long slow inhales, Jim stretched out his back, and sighed at the lack of pain.

“What did you do to my back?” Jim asked, giving Oswald his full attention and trying not to smile at the way Oswald had a towel wrapped completely around his body.

“There was a cream in the kit, said it was good for cuts and scrapes.” Oswald wound the towel tighter around his torso.

“Ah, it’s got a numbing agent in it as well,” Jim said. “Keeps a soldier going through the pain.”

Oswald didn’t answer, simply continued to stare at him with bright eyes until Jim coughed and pointed to the door. “I’m not getting out until you leave.”

“Oh, right, of course.” The red of his face matched nicely with the dark blue of the towel.

Once Oswald left the bathroom, Jim gave a long sigh and stretched out in the tub, glaring at his now obvious erection. “Go away.”

He thought of jogging in the park, Harvey eating a cheese danish, and turned the water on low and cold, splashing himself with the frigid spray until his obvious excitement went away.

_Thank God._

His head felt clearer from the cold and he rinsed and stepped out of the tub, gently drying off his aching body and draining the pink-tinged water. He watched it swirl down the drain, a reminder of his luck and the necessity of friends.

 _Still only thinking of him as a friend?_  
_Shut up._

A sudden knock startled him out of his head.

“I have new clothes for you,” Oswald said, his voice muffled through the closed door.

Jim wrapped his towel around his waist and threw open the door. Oswald had changed into another set of Jim’s clothes and the sight of him drowning in the large t-shirt clenched a tight grip around his heart.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the clothes and closing the door with a wave. He leaned against it, his forehead resting against the cool wood as he took a deep breath.

_I’m so fucked. There can’t be anything between us while we live in separate worlds, but I can’t just give him a roll in the sack and be done with it. There’s too much between us._

He wanted to punch the mirror or kick the wastebasket, anything to release the coiled sorrow around his heart at the prospect of never giving into this need. Oswald didn’t deserve someone who’d always treated him like an annoying gnat that wouldn’t go away and Jim held tight to his restraint as he dressed.

He walked out of the bathroom and his restraint crumbled like a castle of sand against the oncoming waves.

Oswald sat in his bed, a book in his lap and Jim’s t-shirt hanging off his shoulder like an invitation. His head was back against the headboard and his eyes were closed and he looked like a painting, one of those romantic ones that captured the simple life of people in love.

_He’s a criminal and a killer-and the brightest part of my life right now._

The truth kept slipping into his mind, no matter how much he wanted to ignore it or pretend that he couldn’t feel things for someone happily embedded in the criminal activity of Gotham. Slipping out of the room, Jim returned to the couch and stretched out on the thin cushions, his head resting against an armrest while he stared at the ceiling. Breathing slow and steady, he traced the cracks in his walls and forced his thoughts away from the mobster in his bed.

“Why are you on the couch?”

Jim jolted awake and gasped in pain, grabbing his head and moaning as a throbbing ache ran from his temple to the base of his spine. He relaxed his body and looked over at the dimly lit hallway. Leaning against the far wall, Oswald looked at him in confusion, a blanket draped around him like a cloak and his bare feet peeking out from under it.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Jim said, rubbing his forehead and carefully stretching. “Did you need something?”

Oswald shook his head and turned back to the bedroom. He stopped and turned around, opening his mouth before shaking his head again and turning back around, standing still and not moving.

“What is it?” Jim asked, curious to know the meaning behind Oswald’s strange dance of indecision.

Oswald turned back to him and Jim felt his lips quiver in a smile at the exasperated look on his face. “Are you coming to bed?”

The question sounded strained and Oswald looked tight and tense, his hands twisting in the blanket while he waited for Jim’s answer.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a bit.” Jim stood as slow as he could, a smile stretched across his face as he watched Oswald nod and head back to the bedroom.

Walking the dark hallway back to his room, Jim brushed a hand along the thin wallpaper and let his mind drift to how things could be.

_Jim and Oswald against the world, taking on villains and corruption from both sides, all the while loving each other. Oswald falling into his arms, (he knew what that felt like, even if the man had been begging for his life at the time) and holding his hands and kissing and touching, giving in to that spark living in the spaces between them._

Personal space ceased to exist when Jim found himself in Oswald’s company, the energy sizzling each time they came together. He wondered if they stood so close to keep everyone else out. It wasn’t only antagonistic tension, Jim could admit that to himself in the darkness of his apartment. Sexual tension hid in the cracks, leaking and trickling until it cascaded into a waterfall. No amount of distance could keep it in check when their emotions ran high or one of them was in danger. He could imagine how it would feel to grab Oswald by his ridiculous lapels and close that gap, bringing them together in a clash of heat and desire.

_I want him._

Through the horrors of his job and the stress of Gotham and the burden of trying to keep his head above the crowd when everyone else was diving in, Jim wanted the one person who he could be himself with, someone who looked at him and didn’t see a rebel, or a washed up cop, but simply a man, trying to be good.

“Jim?”

He looked up to see the bedroom around him and a concerned Oswald staring at him from the bed.

“What?”

Shaking his head, Oswald pulled himself up to lean against the headboard. “You were staring.”

“Sorry,” Jim said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

Oswald patted the space next to him. “Come lie down.”

Jim padded over, slipping under the blanket and sighing as his head touched the pillow. “It’s been a day.”

Stretching his arms over his head, Oswald hummed in response.

“I had a dream, you know, that I could come to Gotham and be a detective and really make a difference in this city.” Jim rolled over and looked at Oswald. “The funny thing is, even with all that’s happened, I haven’t given up that hope. I’m pretty sure if I keep going the way I am, though, I’ll be labeled insane.”

Oswald looked down at him, a cautious gleam to the concern in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Jim shrugged, wincing as the cuts on his back stretched. “It’s the definition of insanity, right? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.”

Oswald laughed, a small quiet sound in the darkness of the room. “So what would you change?”

“I don’t know. Be more flexible I guess.” Jim held his arm out and bent his elbow, keeping the shape of it straight and stiff. “I always thought I needed to be the wall, unmovable.” He gave a small smile and wiggled his arm back and forth. “Maybe it’s time to be like those skyscrapers in Metropolis, bend in the wind.”

“You have this epiphany today?” Oswald asked, sinking down on the mattress and pulling the blanket to his chin.

“No, honestly, it’s been in my brain since that day I came to ask for my job back,” Jim told him. “Having you here is just, putting more pieces into place.”

“Huh.” Rolling his head to the side, Oswald looked into Jim’s face. “Sure you know how to be flexible?”

“Well, no. I gotta try though, right? And I have you to help me.” Jim gave a yawn and closed his eyes. “Don’t give up on me yet, alright, Oswald?”

Enough time passed in silence that Jim was sure Oswald had fallen asleep or hadn’t heard him and he was close to sleep himself when he heard Oswald whisper. “Never.”

Jim smiled and let the weight of the day leave his shoulders and the comfort of his bed pull him into dreams.


	6. A Little Help from My Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is laid up in his apartment, in pain, with Oswald and his thoughts for company. Harvey decides to pay a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe we are on chapter 6 already? I hope you enjoy and please, let me know what you think in the comments.
> 
> Thank you to the ever wonderful [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) for beta-ing!
> 
> All other mistakes are my own.
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

 

The next day, Jim could hardly move. Everything ached, from his head to the soles of his feet, and he laid in bed and groaned as the light from the window hit his face and blinded him. The look of pity from Oswald didn’t help his mood. He wanted to snap and yell and it was only the memory of Oswald’s recent grief that kept his temper in check. The last thing he wanted to do was drive Oswald away after all the progress they’d made. He grumbled and complained, but he let Oswald get him to the couch, remove his shirt, and place pillows behind his head. The deft touch of those hands sent his imagination into overdrive, but the pain kept his libido in check and he draped a blanket over his lap to keep his body from betraying him. Leaving Jim on the couch, Oswald walked to the kitchen and perused the cupboards and counters.

“Do you have anything in this house that isn’t take out?” Oswald asked, standing in front of the open fridge with a frown.

“I think I have peanut butter and some jelly.” Jim cocked his head. “The bread might bite back, though.”

Sighing, Oswald returned to the living room and tucked the blanket more firmly around Jim. “I’m calling for supplies. This is ridiculous.”

“No, no. I can go shopping.” Jim tried to stand up and cried out as pain shot down his back. 

Oswald put his hands on his hips. “Silly, you’re in no position to walk out those doors.” He patted Jim’s arm and fluffed the pillows behind him. “I’ll have Gabe grab us some groceries and pain killers.”

“I hate pills,” Jim said, wrinkling his nose even as he screamed at himself to stop being a whiny baby.

_ You’re a grown ass man. Act like it. _

“Too bad, you need them.” Oswald grabbed Jim’s phone and started dialing. “Anything else you want?”

Jim shook his head and then whimpered at the pain in just that simple movement. The pain management he usually used was sitting in his liquor cabinet, but he didn’t think Oswald would appreciate having to deal with an intoxicated Jim while they were both recovering from injuries. 

_ That and I don’t trust myself to behave around him when I’m drunk. _

A drunk proposition would likely send Oswald running for the door and Jim needed him inside the apartment and safe. He gave a jump as someone knocked on the door and bit his lip to keep from crying out. 

Shaking his finger at Jim, Oswald moved to the door. “You stay right where you are or I’m moving you back to the bed.” 

“Jimbo, you okay?” Harvey’s voice rang out and panic ran through Jim’s body.

“Get back,” he hissed, waving at Oswald and trying to climb off the couch. “No one is supposed to know you’re here.”

“You can’t stand, much less answer the door,” Oswald retorted. “Besides, he’s been your partner for a while now. Don’t you trust him?”

“Not with you,” Jim said before he could think of how those words sounded.

The look of shock on Oswald’s face made Jim go over his words and a burning blush spread across his cheeks.

“I mean, I don’t want you to, I wasn’t meaning, oh fuck. Whatever.” Jim gave up trying to explain and settled back on the couch. “Let him in.”

Adjusting his expression to a bright smile, Oswald unlocked the chain and threw the door open, welcoming a dumbstruck Harvey into the apartment. Jim gave a little wave from the couch and Harvey stared between them like someone put his head on a swivel.

“What brings you here, Detective Bullock?” Oswald asked, reaching for his hat and gloves. “Checking to make sure our boy here hasn’t shuffled off his mortal coil?”

Harvey watched his things be taken from him with a frown, but he didn’t stop Oswald’s actions; he seemed unable to move.

“You okay there, Harv?”

“Yeah, um yeah, I’m great,” Harvey said, turning back to Jim. “Why the fuck is Penguin here?”

“I’m going to call for groceries,” Oswald interjected before Jim could answer and he turned to Harvey and frowned. “Don’t aggravate his wounds. He took quite a beating from those hitmen and if you stall his recovery, I’ll be upset.”

Harvey’s horrified face made Jim laugh and he couldn’t resist making his partner even more uncomfortable. “Hey, Oz, can you get Gabe to grab the whole grain bread instead of the white this time? I don’t like how processed the white is.”

“Of course,” Oswald said with a saccharine tone, catching onto the game in a way that made Jim’s breath quicken. “I’ll make him go to the farmers market. I know you like the fresh honey from Mrs. Shorefield.”

“Thanks.” Jim winked and watched Oswald saunter off to the kitchen.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Harvey said, sitting next to Jim and feeling his forehead. “What the fuck is happening to you right now?”

Jim laughed and threw his head back, clenching his jaw to keep from screaming at the pain. “Sorry, but you should see your face. I couldn’t resist.” Jim wiped his eyes. “He’s actually only been here for a few days.”

“Wait, as in, here?” Harvey stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “As in, Jim Gordon, the knight of Gotham, has been hiding The Penguin this whole time?”

“I’ve been keeping him safe,” Jim said, glancing towards the kitchen to see Oswald pacing the floor as he hissed into the phone. “Galavan is a slippery son of a bitch and we might have him now, but I’m not one hundred percent convinced he’s not going to wiggle his way out of our charges. If that happens, I want someone just as slippery on our side.”

“Well, that certainly describes the little criminal, but we got Galavan in jail right now,” Harvey argued. “The Penguin is a problem we don’t need.”

“He’s not a problem.” Jim tried to reach behind him to fluff his pillows and cringed as more pain shot down his back. “He’s helped us before, remember? This is simply me not being a dick about accepting his help.”

"Jim, the man is a lunatic," Harvey hissed. "Accepting his help is a sure way to get yourself in more trouble than you can handle."

Jim put his finger to his lips. "Shhh." He looked over at the kitchen, but Oswald had moved farther into the little room and out of sight. "He was in a bad spot when he showed up at Galavan's. I mean, the man murdered his mother, in front of him." Thinking back on that moment, the pure agony in Oswald's voice, Jim shuddered and cleared his throat. "Someone did that to my mother, I’d want a little payback too.”

“He straight up brought a costumed kamikaze brigade just to get a shot at Galavan. That ain’t payback, that’s revenge.” 

“Maybe, but he could have shot me and then Galavan, but he couldn’t,” Jim whispered, bringing Harvey closer. “It might be crazy, but he trusts me and for the first time, I'm not going to throw that away just to feel better about my own shitty life."

“This is so messed up.” Harvey shook his head and rubbed at his temples. "Barnes has been scouring the city for him, you know."

"I know." Shifting on the couch, Jim straightened as Oswald came back into the living room. “That’s why he’s not allowed to leave the apartment.”

"For which I am both grateful and annoyed,” Oswald said, his hands on his hips. “Gabe says the club is being watched and he can’t leave. I don't suppose Detective Bullock would care to make a grocery run so Jim and I don't starve to death."

Harvey stared at him. "What?"

Jim smiled and slapped Harvey’s arm. "I’m sure Harvey would just love to help his injured partner while he’s recovering.” Harvey’s frown only made Jim smile wider. “Make him a list, would you, Oz?”

"Hey, I have my own shit to do," Harvey protested.

"But you wouldn't want your partner to suffer, would you?" Jim batted his eyes at his partner and chuckled at the blush around Harvey's ears.

"He's a bad influence on you, Jim." Grabbing his hat and gloves, Harvey stalked to the door. "Well, is there a list or something?"

Oswald grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote down what he wanted, as well as the pain medications that Jim needed. Handing the list to Harvey, he pulled him close and whispered something in his ear. Harvey pushed him away and growled.

"I wouldn't do anything to put Jim in jeopardy, Penguin." He shoved his hat on his head. "Can you say the same?"

"Absolutely," Oswald said without hesitation, grinning up at him. "Thank you for helping."

Harvey left with another growl and Jim coughed to get Oswald's attention.

"What did you say to him?" Jim asked, settling back on his pillow and trying to ignore the pressure on his wounds.

A shy smile broke across Oswald's face. "I'm not sure you want me to tell you."

"Did you threaten him?"

Oswald hummed and clasped his hands in front of him. "Maybe."

"Oswald, what did you say?"

"I may have threatened slow bodily harm if he showed up here with anyone or anything else other than groceries." Oswald looked at the floor, leaning down to pick up a candy wrapper. ""I'm sorry, Jim, but I can’t trust him like you. His past relationship with Fish doesn't exactly imbue me with confidence."

"Yeah, well my relationship with you doesn't make him that comfortable either." Jim pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

Oswald blushed, the color shooting across his face. "Our relationship isn't like-" He stopped and looked at the floor and cleared his throat. "Anyways, let's see your back and make sure you haven't opened up any of those cuts."

Jim groaned and grumbled, but leaned forward and let Oswald pull up his shirt. 

Oswald hissed and clucked his tongue. "You need to roll onto your stomach," he said, showing Jim the blood on his hands. "I need to clean these again."

Making more noise than really necessary, Jim rolled over until he rested on his stomach, hiking his shirt further up and pillowing his head on his arms. He didn't like being fussed over and having someone see him vulnerable felt uncomfortable, but it was Oswald. He'd made the man crawl into a tub to tend his wounds last night and then spent most of the night wondering what he would taste like if he kissed him. 

_ What's a little more at this point? _

Oswald made quick work of his back, cleaning and bandaging the cuts with the efficiency of an emergency room nurse.

_ He's probably had plenty of practice with his own injuries. _

The sobering thought.reminded Jim off all the times he’d left Oswald bleeding or wounded, when he’d walked away without a thought. It sucked the warmth from his body and he wanted nothing more than to apologize. 

_ Apologies are too late now. You can’t change the past, but you can be better today. _

Jim didn’t think his granddad would appreciate the way Jim was putting his words of wisdom to use, but he was grateful for the advice anyway.

"Thanks," Jim said once Oswald pulled his shirt back down. "I'm sure this isn't what you want to be doing right now."

Oswald laughed, his familiar giggle that sent a delicious spark through Jim's skin. "What I want to be doing is tracking down Miss. Tabitha Galavan.” His face changed, rage spilling out of his eyes. “She held the knife, you know. Her brother may have ordered my mother killed, but she carried out his command.” He looked at Jim. “She ordered the hits on you as well.”

“Hey, I’m alright, though,” Jim said, waving a hand down his body. “She failed and that’s gotta sting.”

Oswald gave a small smile. “For now, I suppose leaving this place will have to wait until Theo Galavan is behind bars or dead."

Jim grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry. I am. I don’t want you to be trapped here." 

"It's not your fault," Oswald said, looking at the first aid kit in his lap. "The plan should have worked, but it didn't and I got shot and if you hadn't come found me, who knows where I'd be right now." He patted Jim's hand and stood up. "You saved my life. I can practice my patience a little longer."

"Good. I'll try not to bore you."

"No offense, but you might want to try for a little boredom next time." Oswald pointed to the bloody gauze in trash. "Patching you up every night might be a little too exciting for my tastes."

Jim laughed and winced and then shook his head. "I don't do it on purpose." Touching the bandages on his back, he conceded that Oswald might have a point. "I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

Oswald nodded and tucked the first aid kit in the bookcase by the door. Jim watched as Oswald perused the books. His delicate hands ran along the titles, his mouth moving as he read some of the more interesting titles. Stopping at a section that stood out among the crime journals and mystery novels, he lifted his eyes and raised his eyebrows. "Anne of Green Gables?"

Jim lifted his head and rolled his eyes. "Yes, they remind me of my childhood, okay?"

"I'm not judging, just surprised." Oswald pulled the first book off the shelf and walked to the couch, reading the jacket as he crossed the room.

Jim rolled to the side and let Oswald sit down before moving back and placing his head in his lap. He shifted and squirmed until he could rest in a position that didn't put pressure on his back and then looked up at Oswald.

"Read to me." Jim smiled at Oswald’s shocked look. "I mean it. It's been a while and I don't feel like watching T.V."

"Okay." Oswald coughed and opened the book. "No making fun of my reading."

"Never," Jim promised. 

He closed his eyes and listened to the pages turn. Oswald cleared his throat a few more times before he started reading.

“Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies’ eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade; but by the time it reached Lynde’s Hollow it was a quiet, well-conducted little stream…

 

*******

 

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Harvey's voice booming through the walls.  "Jim, open up before I drop something!"

Jim sat up from Oswald’s lap, wiping at his mouth and blushing at the idea that he’d fallen asleep while being read to, like a little kid. Sighing and putting down the book, Oswald stood up and limped over to the door while Jim struggled back into his reclining position on the other side of the couch. Opening the door, Oswald stepped aside to allow Harvey and his armfuls of groceries into the house.

"Did you buy the whole store?" Jim asked, staring in awe at the amount of food now occupying his kitchen in a forest of shopping bags.

"I had a list, remember?" He shook his finger in Oswald’s direction. "I’m fairly certain this whole thing was a test, so I better have fucking passed." 

Pulling out a bottle of whiskey, Harvey walked over to the couch and sat down with a groan. “The farmers market in this city is a zoo. I’m never going there again.”

“Thank you, Detective Bullock.” Oswald surveyed his food items with unconcealed glee. “Will you be staying for dinner?”

“I don’t know, are you going to poison me?”

Jim reached over and punched Harvey in the thigh. “Unless you picked up ingredients for poison, I think you’re safe.”

“Jim likes you,” Oswald said, his voice raised as he moved about the kitchen. “I’m trying to tolerate you for his benefit.”

Unscrewing the top of his whiskey bottle, Harvey saluted Oswald. "Then dinner sounds great." 

Jim pointed to his liquor cabinet. "Glasses are in there."

"Why would I need a glass?" Harvey asked, chugging straight from the bottle. 

Jim shook his head. "Animal."

"Where are the pain pills I asked for?" Oswald poked his head around the corner and glared at Harvey.

"Cool your jet-skis, little man," Harvey said, digging in his pocket. "I upgraded our boy here." He pulled out an orange bottle and shook it. "This isn't store bought stuff, so be careful."

Jim read the label and then opened the bottle, shaking out one pill and looking at Oswald. "May I have a glass of water, please?"

"What are those?" Oswald looked ready to confiscate the bottle and a warm rush of happiness coursed through Jim’s body at his overprotective house guest.

"It’s Oxycodone," Jim said, holding up the bottle. “It will work fast and I’ll stay away from the alcohol.”

Oswald relaxed and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned to the living room with a glass of water for Jim and an empty one for Harvey. "Here, I swear no one has any manners these days."

Harvey splashed whiskey into his glass and clinked it against Jim's water glass. "To fucking up so bad, we could actually be doing the right thing."

Snorting at Harvey’s toast, he tossed the pill in his mouth and washed it down with the water. Oswald waited until he’d finished the whole glass before taking it to the kitchen and refilling it.

“You haven’t been drinking enough water,” Oswald said with a smirk. “You don’t want to get dehydrated.”

Jim returned his grin. "Thanks for taking care of me."

"Hey, if you're going to get mushy, I'm going to leave." Harvey took another sip of his drink and glared at Jim.

Oswald blushed and hurried back to the kitchen and Jim watched him leave, the smile still on his face. When he looked back at Harvey, he found him watching with a look of disbelief on his face. 

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," Harvey said with an exaggerated shudder. "This is just beyond my ability to process right now. Jim Gordon, harboring a criminal in his very own home and looking very satisfied."

"Oh, shut it." Keeping his back away from the couch, he reached over and picked up the book Oswald had been reading. They weren’t too far into the story, but he liked the way Oswald read out loud. His voice was soothing and he added character to Anne, capturing her excitement about her new life. 

_ I could listen to him read every day. _

Harvey’s voice pulled him out of his musings. "Jim, what's the long term plan here? How long am I going to have to hide this from Barnes?" Harvey put his hand on Jim's shoulder. "You know I have your back, but I'm not sure how this plays out."

"For now, no one knows he's here," Jim said, taking another drink of water. "If Galavan is found guilty and goes to jail, then I'll transfer him back to the club once the heat on him dies down. If Galavan manages to walk, then we form a team and go after him."

Harvey snorted. "Galavan is rich, powerful, smart, and insane. How do we gather any kind of team to try and take him down?"

"By finding others that he's harmed," Oswald said from the kitchen. “And not standing in my way like an idiot.”

Jim snorted. “Hey, remember who saved your life.”

“Are you going to use that excuse all the time?”

“Well, you see, it happens all the time,” Jim shot back.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You calling me dramatic is hilarious.”

Harvey spat out his drink and scowled. “Stop it, both of you. I haven’t had enough to drink for this shit.” He poured more whiskey into his glass. “What’s our angle while the son of a bitch is in jail?”

"We figure out what this monk angle is,” Jim said, remembering the hidden cassock. 

"Monk angle?" Oswald's face matched Harveys, both giving him a questioning look.

"Right," Jim said, willing the pain pill to kick in. "When we were searching Galavan's place, before Zsasz and Flamingo showed up, Barnes and I found a monk’s cassock hidden in a wall in his place. I don't know how it connects, but it has to mean something for him to have hidden it so well."

“While I wouldn’t count Galavan as a particularly devout man, he did have a strong connection to his family.” Oswald stood with a hand on one hip and he tapped a spatula against his chin.

“His family’s a start.” Jim looked wistfully at Oswald. “Is there food yet?”

Oswald darted back into the kitchen after shaking his spatula at Jim. “Don’t rush me!”

“I can do some digging into his family history, try to find a connection.” Harvey held up the bottle. “You want some?”

“Nah, alcohol and pain medication does not mix.” Jim pointed to the desk by the wall. “Can you get me a pad of paper?”

Harvey grumbled, but did as he was told and Jim used the paper to sketch out possible connections between the monk cassock and Galavan. They plotted and planned and bickered over who of Galavan’s people they could find to question until Oswald told them it was time for dinner. The pain pill did its job and Jim could stand and walk to the table on his own. The food looked delicious, a pan of homemade lasagna took center stage, surrounded with steaming garlic bread and vinegar dressed greens.

“Wow, this table hasn’t seen this much food, ever.” Jim sank down into a chair and beamed at Oswald. “Thank you.”

Harvey grabbed a piece of bread from the bowl and waved it at Oswald. “Yeah, thanks.”

Oswald took a seat and stretched out his legs. “You’re quite welcome. It’s been some time since I used my kitchen skills.”

They ate and talked and Jim watched in barely concealed amusement as Oswald and Harvey tried to out-polite each other. When they started foisting more food onto each other, each proclaiming how the other must not have eaten enough, Jim told Harvey goodnight and kicked him out of the apartment. 

Oswald leaned back in his chair and grinned. "That was fun."

Putting his head against the door, Jim groaned. "Why? What did I do in a past life to have to deal with this now?"

Turning around, he found Oswald staring at him, a mournful look on his face.

"You don't have to," Oswald said, standing and collecting plates. "I'll leave if you prefer."

Groaning at Oswald’s finicky moods, Jim walked to the table and helped clear the dishes. "No, I don't want you to leave. I suppose it's too much to ask for you and Harvey to become friends after everything with Fish Mooney."

"To say the least," Oswald muttered, piling dishes in the sink. "I’d try harder, but I don’t want to.”

“Like I said, too much to ask.” Jim started the water, running his hand under the tap to check the temperature. “He won’t run to Barnes, though, and he’s good in a fight. He’s got my back.”

“Fine, you win.” Oswald held up his hands, pinching his lips together. “I’ll back off.”

Jim smiled. “I’m really enjoying this winning thing.”

Oswald pushed him away from the sink. “You go lie down,” he said, pointing to the bedroom.

"You cooked, I should clean," Jim picked up a dishrag and twirled it in his hands.

Taking the rag away, Oswald held his arm and led him out of the kitchen. "You are barely standing, Jim." Oswald took him all the way to the bedroom. "I'll grab another pill for you and then you need to rest."

“Fine, you win.” Jim grinned, his head a fuzzy mess of warmth and the pleasant numbness of the Oxy.

Huffing out a laugh, Oswald directed Jim onto the bed and pulled off his socks. “You think you’re funny when you’re drugged.”

"Why are you taking such good care of me?" Jim asked, tucking his feet under the blanket and rotating onto his side. "I can hardly see this as something normal for the famed Penguin of Gotham."

Pulling the blanket up to Jim's chin, Oswald smiled softly and shook his head. "Well, you got me there."

He didn't say anything else and Jim watched him leave, his mind a state of confusion as to what Oswald could have meant. Returning shortly with another pain pill and a glass of water, Oswald   barely gave him time to say thank you before he turned off the light and headed back to the kitchen. 

_ Does he hate it here? Why is he staying? Was it something I said? _

The pain medication settled further into his body and Jim fell asleep, his mind still troubled as to why Oswald was acting so distant.


	7. Too Young to Feel This Damn Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim heads back to work, but he isn't as ready as he wants to be to be back in the field. Desk duty doesn't suit him, but at least he has Oswald to distract him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: My old as hell computer finally bit the dust last week so I'm posting from my work computer. The plus side is that i can still post chapters, and the downside is that I won't be able to make the little picture collages for the titles until my new computer comes in. I'll try to add them later! Enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Thank you to the ever wonderful [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) for beta-ing!  
> All other mistakes are my own.
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

Morning dawned and even though Jim still hurt and his back felt like it was on fire, he struggled into his suit and clipped on his badge. Oswald rolled over into the warm depression Jim left on the bed and yawned.   
  
"Are you sure you're ready to get back out there?" Oswald asked, his voice low and sleepy.  
  
Jim shrugged and winced, grabbing the pain pills from Harvey and shoving them in his pocket. "If by 'out there', you mean being chained to a desk because there is no way Barnes clears me for duty so soon, then, yes."  
  
Oswald stuck out his tongue and pulled the blankets over his head. Jim was glad to see his normal mood returning, as well as more movement in his arm. Gunshot wounds were tricky and he was happy to see Oswald recovering. He wasn't so happy to be trudging down three flights of stairs, but the air of Gotham surrounded him as he walked down the street and it felt good to be among people again.   
  
_Not that hanging with Oswald isn't fun, but that apartment is too small for two people recovering from injuries._  
  
Jim wandered into the station with Oswald on his mind and an ache in his back. Harvey didn't help the situation by clapping him on the shoulder to welcome him back to work. He winced and scowled at Harvey's unrepentant face.  
  
"You're the worst. I hope you know that." Jim settled at his desk and then groaned as Barnes yelled from his office a few minutes later.  
  
"Gordon! Bullock! Get your asses over here!"  
  
Standing and stretching out his aching back, Jim followed Harvey to Barnes' office.  Their captain stood behind his desk, scowling down at photos of security footage by the docks.  
  
"What is it, sir?" Jim asked, leaning against the wall.  
  
"There was a murder at the docks last night. A weird one." He looked up and gave Jim a skeptical look. "You up for a case or am I putting you on desk duty?"  
  
"He's barely standing, Captain," Harvey said. "He really shouldn't be in today."  
  
"I'm good, I mean, I'll live." Jim stepped on Harvey's foot to keep him silent and looked over at Barnes. "I'm ready, sir, really."  
  
"I doubt it, but I can't spare anyone right now," Barnes said. "That Galavan case gave us a few knocks and we're still rebuilding."  
  
Jim opened his mouth and Barnes shook his head. "No, the case is over. We got the criminal and he's behind bars." He pointed to the pictures on his desk. "We move on to the next case, got it, Gordon?"  
  
"Got it, captain," Jim said, gathering up the photos and handing them to Harvey. "I'll let you know if we find anything."  
  
"Are those ninjas?" Harvey asked, pointing at the pictures as they left the office. Jim stared at the spot Harvey pointed out and squinted. In the fuzzy photo, they looked a little bit like ninjas and in Gotham, they could also be time traveling assassins.  
  
_Nice to be back at work._  
  
"Ninjas and stabbings," Harvey said with a sigh. "Just another day in Gotham."  
  
Grabbing his jacket, Jim followed Harvey to his car and slid into the passenger seat. They hadn’t had a chance to talk alone while at the apartment with Oswald hovering, but Jim needed his partner on his side and the truth would get him there faster than trying to dodge it. He waited until Harvey climbed into the driver’s seat, started the car, and pulled out into traffic.  
  
"I think I might be a little into Oswald,” he said, struggling to contain his smile as he said the words out loud for the first time.  
  
Harvey cursed and slammed on his breaks, throwing Jim into the glove box.  
  
"Ow."  
  
"Don't play games with me now, Boy Scout." Harvey started inching forward again. "Anyone with eyes that work can see that he's smitten with his white knight. I'm sure it's good for the ego, but you don't want to dip into that crazy."  
  
"He's not crazy, Harvey." Jim crossed his arms and watched the walking crowds of Gotham pass by. "He's weird and different and, okay, power hungry is probably putting it mildly, but we’d call that ambitious in another world.”  
  
"Yeah, but that mix still spells crazy." Harvey's face twisted between disgust and concern. "You've just been cooped up in a house with him for too long. You've acclimated."  
  
“I haven’t figured it all out myself,” Jim admitted. “But I’m not going to throw whatever this is in the trash. I wanted you to know.”  
  
Harvey grunted and shook his head. “You know I’m your partner, always. I don’t suppose I can make you see reason? I mean the guy’s a good informant, but getting in bed with a criminal means keeping a whole lot of secrets.”  
  
“I already do that,” Jim retorted with a snort. “I’m telling you this because I trust you, alright?”  
  
Harvey’s ears turned red and he grunted again, but he changed the subject. “It’s stopped raining. I won’t have to figure out how to grow gills today.”  
  
Jim huffed and kept his eyes on the road, fidgeting with the pill bottle in his pocket. He could feel the stiffness returning to his limbs and when Harvey pulled up to the docks, he knew there wasn’t any way he was making it through the day without a little help. Popping open the bottle, he dry swallowed the pill and shoved the rest back in his pocket.   
  
“You coming, Jimbo? Or is it already nap time?” Harvey’s brash laugh cut through his pain and Jim straightened his shoulders and walked over to the body. “Any clue as to who the vic is?”  
  
“Lowlife mugger from the looks of him,” Harvey said, kicking at the man’s shoe.   
  
Another officer stepped up and Harvey smiled. “Hey, Parks, how’s it going?”  
  
She rolled her eyes and turned to Jim. “I have a statement from a witness who says she was being robbed by this man when a group of people in black robes grabbed him and carried him off. She didn’t want to state her name, though.”  
  
“That’s fine,” Jim said, putting his hands on his hips to keep from falling over. “Do you think you could get a description of the robes from her?”  
  
“I have Ed researching those robes from Galavan’s place. If they match, we could have a connection.” Harvey patted him on the back and Jim crumpled to the ground. “Fuck, Jim!”  
  
“Maybe should have taken another day,” Jim said, staying on his hands and knees and breathing deep.  
  
“No shit, Sherlock.” Harvey waved another officer over. “Take Jim back to the station and put him at his desk.” He returned to Jim’s side. “You’re going to help Ed with research and not complain, or I’ll tell Barnes about you passing out at a crime scene.”  
  
Jim nodded and struggled to his feet, waving off the young officer who approached.   
  
"You're with me, Parks," Harvey said with a scowl. "Try not to die."  
  
Jim grabbed Parks’ arm as she passed. "Don't let him fool you. He's a giant softy."  
  
Parks smiled and nodded. "Don't I know it, sir."  
  
"I'm not a sir," Jim said, but she was already following Harvey around to the other side of the docks.   
  
"Are you ready to go, sir?"   
  
Jim looked at the young officer with his tight uniform and clean shaven face. "Yeah, alright."  
  
Arriving back at the precinct, Jim slumped into his chair and waited for his helpful fellow officer to return to duty before pulling out his phone. He dialed home while he grabbed a file off his pile of paperwork.  
  
"Leberkäse, Kohl, Sahne!"  
  
"It's me," Jim said, opening the case file and staring down at the picture of a young man, name still listed as John Doe. "How much do you really know about Galavan's family?"  
  
"Not much,” Oswald said, with a small sniff. "I was a little busy trying to protect my own to figure out his thing. I know he's attached to his sister and his niece seems to be a part of his plan. I'd seen her with the Wayne boy."  
  
"Okay, well, I have all day to find a connection. If you could dig into your resources as well, coming at it from both sides would be helpful."  
  
"Don't you have a new case?" Oswald asked, the concern in his voice making Jim's chest ache.  
  
"I, uh, may have collapsed at the crime scene," he said, as quietly as he could. "Harvey sent me back to the station."  
  
"You shouldn't have gone back to work, I knew it."  
  
"Hey, at least I let someone escort me back to my desk!" Jim's heart skipped a beat as he realized how loud he was talking. "Sorry, not yelling."  
  
"Yelling is fine," Oswald said, tapping something on the other end. "I'll check out my sources and get back to you."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
“Okay, well, I have paperwork to sift through," Jim said, a blush rising on his cheeks.  
  
"Yes. Right. Okay." Oswald cleared his throat. "Be careful."  
  
"I'll try not to let the pencil sharpener eat me," Jim told him and listened to him laugh, mesmerized by the sound.  
  
"Do that, bye."  
  
"Bye."  
  
He hung up the phone and someone next to him gave a cough, making Jim almost jump out of his skin. He turned to see Ed standing by his desk with a smile on his face, pushing up his glasses.  
  
"Jeez, Ed. Warn a guy," Jim said, placing his hand over his heart.  
  
"Apologies. Who was on the phone?" Wrapping his arms around his middle, Ed cocked his head and stared at Jim as if he had transformed into an interesting puzzle.   
  
"No one. Did you need something?" Discussing Oswald with anyone other than Harvey was out of the question.  
  
"Pretty chummy for a no one," Ed said, his eyes twinkling, but he switched gears as fast as he always did. "I have news about Galavan."  
  
Jim waved him close. "And?"  
  
"What belongs to you, but others use it more than you do?” Ed asked with a grin.  
  
Staring at Ed, willing his annoyance to fade, Jim tried to figure out the puzzle. Solving Ed's riddles made getting lab reports back much less of a hassle.  
  
_A wonder Harvey’s never caught on all these years._  
  
"I give up," Jim said at last, rubbing at his face and looking down at the open case file on his desk. "Still a bit fried from my run in with Flamingo, I guess."  
  
"Your name!”  
  
“Okay, are you telling me there is something about the Galavan name?” Jim asked, his eyes pleading with Ed to get to the point.  
  
"It shouldn’t exist," Ed whispered, stepping closer to Jim as he lowered his voice.  
  
"I'm not sure I follow."   
  
"The Galavans haven't always been The Galavans." Ed pushed up his glasses and his smile widened.  
  
"They changed their name," Jim said, the information finally sinking in.  
  
Standing up and moving to where Harvey had a stack of books on religious orders, Jim sifted through them until he found one so old and tattered that the cover was barely readable.  
  
"Do you know what they changed it from?" He asked Ed, returning to his desk with a groan.  
  
"No, I haven't gotten that far yet." Spinning back around, Ed raced down the stairs.   
  
"Hey, Ed," Jim called out. "Thank you!"  
  
A frantic wave was his answer and Jim grinned at his excitable colleague. The old book smelled like mold and some of the pages were stuck together, but Jim could make out a few of the words and his heart beat faster as he came across a drawing of a monk wearing the same kind of robe as the one they found at Galavan's place. Reading the inscription, he jumped out of his chair and the collapsed back down as a wave of dizziness made his head spin. He looked at the clock and cursed, he hadn't had food or coffee with his pill and that decision was coming back to bite him in the ass. Giving his head time to calm down, Jim picked up his phone and dialed home.  
  
"Schwarz blut schinken!."  
  
"It's me, hey, what do you yell at me when you answer the phone? Have people other than me been calling?"  
  
"No, but one can't be too careful." Oswald snickered. "They are recipes as far as I know. My mother could have been teaching me anything and I wouldn't have known the difference."  
  
"Okay then." Jim pictured a young Oswald shouting a list of ingredients at his adversaries and chuckled.  
  
Oswald gave a huff of impatience. "Did you need something else?"  
  
"Yeah, lunch." Jim patted his stomach as it growled. "I'm stuck at my desk and Harvey isn't back yet."  
  
Oswald hummed. "Something light, I think. Did you take your pain meds?"  
  
"Yes, nurse," Jim said, blushing at the teasing tone in his voice. "I just forgot to eat and the world is kind of spinning."  
  
"I'll have someone deliver you food," Oswald said. "Don't move until you've eaten."  
  
Jim hummed and nodded and remembered that Oswald couldn't see him. "Alright."  
  
**Click.**  
  
Jim looked at the phone and smiled.  
  
"Care to share what that was?"  
  
Jim jumped and groaned as the world spun again. "Fuck. People have got to stop scaring me today. I'm recovering from almost being killed by trained assassins."  
  
Harvey laughed and slid the stack of books across Jim's desk. "Well, we hit a dead end on our vic, apparently the best thing that could be said about him is that he's dead."  
  
"I might have had more luck." Jim picked up the book with the drawing and showed it to Harvey. "This is the same style as the one we found. Look at the inscription."  
  
"Order of Dumas," Harvey read, looking back at Jim, "This supposed to mean something to me?"  
  
"No, but it ties in with a clue that Ed gave." Jim opened up the file Ed had left on his desk. "Theo was born a Galavan, as well as his parents, but if you go back far enough, they just appear. No ancestry beyond that point, as if they manifested into society from thin air."  
  
"So, they’re aliens?"  
  
"No," Jim retorted. "They changed their name."  
  
Harvey snapped his fingers together. "Your brain is thinking it might have been from Dumas. Wait." He pulled out the picture from the security cameras by the docks. "Does it have our ninja looking fuckers in that book?"  
  
"I haven't finished it," Jim said, pulling the book towards him. "I'll let you know."  
  
"This is good," Harvey said, clapping him on the back.  
  
"Ow."  
  
The book deteriorated rapidly once Jim flipped to the back and most of the drawings were faded beyond redemption, but Jim kept searching for a connection to the two groups of robe wearing freaks in the city.  
  
The smell of dill and sourdough pulled him from his research. Looking up, he found a delivery boy holding a satchel out to him.  
  
"Delivery for Mr. Jim Gordon," the boy said, popping a bubble of his gum while he held out the bag.  
  
Jim grabbed the bag and slid the boy a couple of bills. "Thanks."  
  
"You're welcome." Stuffing the money in his shorts, the boy took off and Jim opened the bag, filling his nostrils with the heavenly aroma of fresh baked sourdough bread and thick potato soup.   
  
"Woah, who thinks you're special?" Harvey asked, giving Jim a wink.  
  
Jim stared at him until a look of understanding dawned on Harvey's face and he wrinkled his nose. "Nevermind."  
  
"You sure?" Jim asked, reaching into the bag. "Because there's two lunches in here and I think one of them's for you."  
  
Harvey reached out and grabbed the container of soup, seeing the word 'Bullock’s' written across the top.  
  
Laughing at his own container, the word 'Gordy' written on it with a red sharpie, Jim dug into his lunch with gusto.  
  
As delicious as lunch was, Jim could feel his energy levels dropping and his eyes drooping as he stared at page after page of ancient text. Closing the book, he pushed it to the side and opened the next, giving the case files on his desk a guilty glance.  
  
"I've got it!" Ed shouted from the bullpen and Jim jolted out of his chair to glare at him.  
  
"The next person to scare me is getting punched," Jim said, pointing around the precinct.   
  
"Sorry, sorry," Ed said, skipping up to his desk. "But look. We've had Harvey and Parks investigating the wrong places. The Order of Dumas wouldn't be connected to any church still functioning."  
  
"Where are they?"  
  
"There's an old church, now a massage parlor." Ed pointed to a photo of the door. "That right there is a symbol of The Order."  
  
“What’s the address?” Jim asked, grabbing a pen and scrap of paper as Harvey made his way back from the files office.   
  
"Good work, Ed," Jim said, clapping him on the back and then waving down Harvey. “We have a location to check out.”  
  
“I have a location to check out,” Harvey corrected. “You have more paperwork to do.”  
  
Arguing would have been pointless after this morning, so Jim handed the piece of paper over to Harvey and watched him pull Parks along for the ride. After the catastrophe with the hitmen, Parks seemed to realize her potential and Jim was glad that Harvey had someone with a cool head to back him up.  
  
The next book proved just as fruitless, more a list of someone’s family tree than a history of Gotham, and he shoved it to the side in disgust. Looking at the clock, he sighed and picked up a case file.  
  
_Might as well fill out some of these reports before we’re too late with them._  
  
The clock ticked on and Jim filled out reports and sent files down to the floor and tried to ignore the smirks from other detectives as he rotated around his desk. Pitching the last file into his done box, Jim groaned and stretched and cursed as he saw Barnes headed his way. He’d cleared away all his paperwork, but the desk was a mess of ancient books, lunch wrappings, and a couple of folders on Galavan in plain sight. Barnes looked at the desk, looked at Jim, and sighed.  
  
"You're like a terrier with a rat, you know that?" Barnes pulled up Harvey's seat and motioned for Jim to relax. "What have you got?"  
  
Jim rattled off their new information, hoping Barnes wouldn't be too upset that he’d veered from investigating the murder at the pier. “For now, Harvey is checking out a church with ties to The Order of Dumas and I’m waiting." He tapped on the desk and sighed.  
  
"Uh huh," Barnes looked at his watch and back at Jim. "Here's your chance to prove you’re right." He pointed to the door where a dead body, dressed in a long black robe, was rolled through the door and down to the autopsy room.  
  
Scanning the crowd for Harvey's hat, he found Parks entering behind a couple of forensic techs. He hobbled down the stairs and met her at her station.  
  
"Where's Harv?"  
  
She laughed and pointed to the door. "He's getting harassed by a couple of newbies. They want to know how he took down a ninja."  
  
Jim sighed in relief. "Idiot."  
  
"Right?" Parks pushed her hair back from her face. "We have one of the men in autopsy, though, did you want to go down with us for the report?"  
  
"Yeah, sure," Jim said, distracted by the approach of Harvey and his admirers.  
  
"Hey, Jimbo, you missed the show." Harvey waved to the fresh recruits as they returned to their duties.  
  
"So I hear." He patted his partner on the back, glad to see him alive after a run-in with the monk-ninja people. "Fill me in on the way to autopsy."  
  
Harvey listed off their heroics like he was telling an epic from history, regaling Jim with details on the massage parlor and the battle between paper walls, and Parks kept rolling her eyes and making it hard for Jim to keep a straight face.   
  
"He came at me with his knife, but I saw the movement and I turned the blade back toward him, running him through while his fellow ninja's fled the scene." Harvey held the door open. "Parks shot one in the gut, but he might still live."  
  
"Good job, Parks." Jim gave her a smile and she shook her head.  
  
"I'm glad you're all having fun," Lee said, waving them into the room.   
  
Jim gulped and glanced at Harvey who shot him a sympathetic look and turned his attention to the body currently displayed on the table.  
  
"Anything you can tell us, doc?"  
  
Lee looked at her notes and hummed. "He had some particulates in his throat and under his fingers that could mean they've been living underground. I'd say somewhere with a sewer connection."  
  
Jim snapped his fingers and rushed out of the room, flinging open Ed's door. "Ed, do you have a map of the old sewer lines, and a map of Gotham?"  
  
Ed yelped and covered his table with his body. "Jeez, Jim. Don't do that!"  
  
"Sucks to be on the other end, huh?" Jim teased, crossing his arms and waiting for Ed to grab the maps. Ed grumbled and muttered to himself, but his curiosity must have won out over his hurt pride, because he quickly located the maps and ushered Jim out of his office.  
  
They brought the two maps, as well as a couple of overlays, into the autopsy room and laid them out on the table. Everyone gathered around the map to search for anything that could help their case and Jim crowed in triumph as the church turned massage parlor sat right over an old sewer entrance.   
  
"That's how they got in so quietly," Jim said, giving Harvey a sympathetic look. Barnes is going to want you to go down there."  
  
Harvey looked at the map and then back at Parks. "What do you say, temp? Ready for another spine tingling adventure?"  
  
"The only thing spine tingling is your eating habits, Bullock."  
  
Jim held up his hand and Parks gave him a high five. Still grinning, he turned to Lee to catch her staring at him, a look of complete confusion across her face.   
  
“What is it?”  
  
She shook her head and looked down at her medical examination. “Nothing. It’s just-” She looked back up. “You seem different, more relaxed.”  
  
“Oh.” Jim gave her a small smile and gestured to his back. “I guess getting attacked by trained killers can make anyone appreciate life a little more.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess so.” She stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. “I’m glad, Jim. Happy looks good on you.”  
  
“Are you going to slap me again?” Jim asked, wiggling his eyebrows.  
  
She laughed and stepped back. “No, no slap. Go find out where the sewers lead. I’ll finish up here.” She stopped Jim just before he exited the room. “Jim, if you ever want to talk, you know I’m here, right?”  
  
Jim nodded and leaned forward, kissing her forehead. “Thanks, Lee.”  
  
He left the room, closing the door behind him and taking a deep breath. If he asked her to, Jim believed that Lee would take him back. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, inside and out, but his heart pulled him in a different direction, and as much as common sense told him to run, Jim wasn’t backing down this time.  
  
Jim and Harvey located Barnes and Jim’s prediction about Harvey’s new assignment proved correct. Patting his partner on the back, Jim watched him leave again with Parks and sent up a prayer that they would be alright.  
  
The phone started ringing on Barnes' desk and he waived Jim into a seat as he answered it.   
  
"This is Barnes."  
  
"Can you stop it?"  
  
"How long do we have?"  
  
"We'll be there as soon as we can."  
  
Barnes slammed down the phone and grabbed his jacket. "Go get your things, Gordon. We have a court hearing to get to."  
  
"What?" Jim tilted his head. "I don't understand."  
  
"Apparently, the hearing for Galavan starts in twenty minutes." Barnes barged through his door with Jim on his heels.  
  
"That can't be right, sir," Jim said. "We should have at least a few more weeks to prepare."  
  
"That's Gotham for you," Barnes said with a snarl.  
  
"We still have Mayor James' testimony." Swinging by his desk, Jim grabbed his coat and badge and stuffed his pills into his pocket. The way the captain was moving, he'd probably need one soon.  
  
"I'm not counting on anything from that money grubbing crook." Directing Jim to the passenger's side of an old blue Cadillac, Barnes hopped in the driver’s seat and they sped off towards the courthouse. Barnes drove like he walked, with no wasted movement, and Jim swallowed his pain medication as they squealed to a stop outside Gotham City Courthouse.  
  
"Behave yourself," Barnes said, waving a finger in Jim's direction. "I don't need you thrown in jail on contempt."  
  
Jim nodded and followed him into the building. Finding the room was as easy as looking for the reporters and Jim and Barnes waved their badges around until they made it through the circus and into the room. Theo Galavan already sat in the defendant's chair, dressed in a fine looking suit and seeming far too pleased with himself. Jim hated the atmosphere, like Galavan had already won and everyone was holding their breath to see who would go down instead. Sitting and watching the proceedings, Jim clasped his hands together and hoped Harvey had more luck with his investigation.   
  
The judge called the former mayor to the stand and Jim sat forward, eager to see Galavan's face as James gave his testimony.   
  
"-that I was held captive by The Penguin."  
_  
Wait, what?_  
  
Staring in shock at Aubrey James as he spouted lie after lie about his abuse at the hands of The Penguin, Jim couldn't hold his tongue. "That's a lie! There's no way The Penguin would do this! What's in it for him?"  
  
The judge banged his gavel and pointed it at Jim. "Sit down, Detective Gordon, or I will have you removed."  
  
Jim sat, more from being pulled down by Barnes than on his own power, but the damage was done. The prosecutor stared at Aubrey James in horror while the defense moved to have the case dropped. Hearing the judge grant their request was like hearing a gun fire near his head.   
  
_Oswald’s going to freak and throw himself into danger to get Galavan off the streets. This can't be happening._  
  
"Pull yourself together, Gordon. We're not done with him yet, alright?" Barnes held onto his arm and whispered as Galavan passed by and stopped to greet them. "Don't forget where Bullock is."  
  
Galavan looked at the reporters with their flashing cameras and smiled. "I want it known that I do not hold the GCPD responsible for my incarceration. They were doing their jobs and I commend them for that." He held out his hand to Jim. "Let’s put the past behind us, shall we?"  
  
Barnes had a firm grip on his arm or Jim would have taken a swing at the smug man's face. Instead, he reached out and shook his head, bringing him close and whispering in his ear as he patted him on the back. "I have no intention of stopping until you're behind bars, so don't worry. You'll see your friends again soon."  
  
Galavan laughed and released his arm. "You're quite welcome, detective. See you around."  
  
Jim kept his blank mask in place as Galavan left, trailing reporters and constant flash of cameras. Releasing his arm, Barnes stepped in front of him and gave Jim a rare smile. "Let's get back to the station and nail that son of a bitch to the wall."  
  
Jim couldn't speak. He nodded and spent the ride back to the station trying to figure out the best way to break the news to Oswald. With his luck, Oswald would have turned on the T.V. and he was already plotting how to kill Galavan.  
  
_I won’t be able to stop him. Fuck. What do I do?_  
  
The precinct was in an uproar with Harvey holding an icepack to his head and a bleeding Parks in the middle of everything.   
  
“He wasn’t that big,” Parks said, pushing Harvey over and laughing. “But he wasn’t a boy either. I swear, if that column hadn’t been loose, we would be singing in heaven’s choir right now.” She looked at Harvey. “Well, maybe not all of us.”  
  
He grinned and Jim felt a spark of jealousy at the easy friendship forming between Parks and his partner. Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Jim stayed behind Barnes and waited to be dismissed.  
  
“What’s going on here?” Barnes barked and the entire station jumped, officers fleeing back to their desks or into their offices.   
  
Parks stood and helped Harvey to his feet. “I think we found what you’re looking for, Gordon.”  
  
“Wait, never mind that.” Barnes cut her off before she got too far. “Listen up, Detective Gordon and I just returned from the courthouse where Theo Galavan was released. Aubrey James now says that The Penguin kidnapped and tortured him. We’re back to Oswald Cobblepot being our number one priority, so everyone get to work. We have a manhunt to plan!”  
  
He waved Harvey and Parks and Jim into his office. “They’ll be on the lookout for the Penguin. Tell me what you found out about this Order of Dumas.”  
  
“They want to kill ‘The Son of Gotham’ to restore glory to the Dumas name,” Harvey said, keeping his icepack firmly on his head. “I was able to get a few things out of one of the monks, they are monks by the way, not ninjas, and if Theo Galavan used to be a Dumas, they are definitely connected.”  
  
“Good, you all work that angle while we get a manhunt started for Cobblepot.” Barnes pointed to the door. “Dismissed.”  
  
Leaning against the wall wasn’t Jim’s smartest move and when he straightened, the world went sideways for a minute. Harvey took his arm and led him out of Barnes’ office.  
  
“You’re going home and getting more rest,” Harvey told him. “I need you in this when it starts to get messy.”  
  
“What do I say?” He asked, looking at Harvey in a panic.  
  
“The truth, remember?” Harvey pushed him towards the door.  
  
Jim couldn’t make his face smile, but he waved goodbye and left the station, hailing a taxi while his mind raced with what the coming days might bring.

Giving his address to the driver, he leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the taxi sink into his bones.

_Hopefully he’ll listen to me enough to wait until tomorrow. I’m too tired to keep moving tonight._

Jim felt a sharp stab to his leg and his eyes flew open. He stared at the needle sticking out of his upper thigh while the driver pulled off onto a side street and headed away from Jim’s apartment building. He tried to pull out the needle, tried to talk, but the drug dragged him down into unconsciousness.  
  
_I’m sorry, Oswald._

 


	8. Let's Kill Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight against Galavan comes to a point after he kidnaps Bruce Wayne and a few secrets come slipping out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Cow! How did we get to chapter 8 so fast? This month has been flying by. I'm still without a computer (except while at work) so I hope you all enjoy the next chapter and please send a few wishes my way that my new computer ships quickly. Thank you for reading!
> 
> A million thanks to [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) for her help as a beta and her support of this story that grew way too big, way too fast.  
> All other mistakes are my own.
> 
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He woke to a slap in the face and Theo Galavan standing over him holding a pair of leather gloves, smirking like he’d just won the lottery.

“Hello again, Jim.” Galavan bent down and lifted his chin. “Feeling a little woozy?”

Jim opened his mouth, but Galavan only slapped him with the gloves again and turned to the men behind him. “The great Jim Gordon, scourge of criminals everywhere.” He swung back to Jim. “What a pathetic waste.”

“Fuck you,” Jim said, not caring if it got him another slap.

Galavan laughed and tucked his gloves into his coat pocket. “Such spirit!” Wiggling his finger in Jim’s face, he clucked his tongue. “Too bad you couldn’t use it for something truly worthwhile.”

“What are you going to do?” Jim wiggled against his bonds and felt the rope cut into his wrists.

“Haven’t you figured it out by now? I’m going to change Gotham!” Turning in a circle with his arms spread, Galvan looked like a mad king surveying his subjects. “This city is covered in filth and I’m going to wipe it out and reclaim it from those who’ve been swimming in its muck for too long.”

“Starting with the Son of Gotham?” Jim asked, the words like mush in his blood-filled mouth.

_Keep him talking, distracted. Maybe I can get loose._

“You know about that?” Galavan hummed and then shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. I mean, you’re going to die tonight and The Son of Gotham will die tomorrow, then this city will be free for the taking.”

Jim wiggled in his bonds, searching for any weak spots, but the ropes didn’t budge.

“Oh, yes. That must be very uncomfortable for you,” Galavan said with a look of fake concern. “Gentlemen, why don’t we make our guest a little more comfortable? Hmm?”

Two men walked forward and Jim recognized them as two of the disgraced police officers, the ones Barnes fired when he first arrived. He didn’t say anything, just let them undo his chains and stand him up. Regaining his balance, Jim thrust his fist into one of their throats and kicked back at the other one.

“So feisty! I really enjoy your spirit.” Galavan clapped and the two men staggered away. “Not truly a fair fight, though. Come on, Jim, you and me.”

Jim put up his fists, his head already reeling from the rush of blood and the mix of drugs still swirling through his system. He swung at Galavan, but he danced away with a laugh. Jim kept his eyes on him, tried to keep his guard up, but Galavan dodged and hit like a professional fighter and the more Jim fought back, the worse he staggered. Finally, he fell to his knees and swayed in defeat. Galavan laughed and patted his cheek, as if the entire thing was a big game.

“I’d finish you myself, but I have very important work to be doing.” He waved his followers forward. “Don’t make it too quick, gentlemen, after all, he’s a cop.”

They grinned and advanced on Jim while Galavan hopped into an approaching car and drove off. Looking around, taking in the faces of people he’d once worked alongside in the fight against men like Galavan, Jim watched them approach and grinned.

“How much are you getting paid to be cowards?” He asked, spitting out blood.

He didn’t flinch as the closest man put a boot in his chest, knocking his head against the concrete and making the world disappear in a shower of stars. Loud noises erupted all around him, but he couldn’t feel anything or see anything and the screams didn’t sound like his screams. When the noise stopped, he closed his eyes, ready to drift away. Something hit him in the face and he opened his eyes to see Oswald reaching back to hit him again.

“Where is he?” Oswald asked, his voice cracking under the force of his rage.

Jim couldn’t speak, but he lifted his hand and ran it through Oswald’s hair before he fell unconscious.

 

*******

 

“You have to be quiet or I’m kicking you out of here.”

The sound of Oswald threatening someone brought a smile to Jim’s face and he moved to sit up. The pounding in his head forced a groan from his throat, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. Looking around, Jim found Oswald, Harvey, Gabe, and to his immense surprise, Ed, all standing in his tiny apartment and from the looks of things, arguing.

“Oswald?”

“It’s alright, Jim,” Oswald said, glaring at the room until everyone dropped their eyes and turned back to a crate sitting on the floor. “You said we needed a team, remember? Consider this at least a start.”

The team looked small and unsure, but Jim would take what he could get. “I need water,” he said with another groan.

“Of course!” Oswald rushed into the kitchen and brought back a bottle of water. He also had the bottle of pain pills, but Jim shook his head and pushed them away.

“I think I’ll stay away from drugs at this point.” He swallowed half the water bottle and sighed in relief. “Is this all we have?” He gestured around the room and frowned.

Oswald sat down on the couch next to Jim. “No, I have more waiting in another building. I haven’t been able to get a hold of Zsasz, but Gabe says he’ll be available later tonight.” He looked Jim in the eye, his relief clear as day. “He would have killed you.”

“I’m not dead, though,” Jim said with a smile. “Maybe we’re just the two hardest sons of bitches to kill in this whole damn city.”

Oswald giggled and the atmosphere in the room seemed to relax. Harvey gagged and Gabe gave him a pat on the back.

Pushing Gabe’s hand away, Harvey moved closer and knelt down beside the couch. “I know you’re recovering from your third head injury and at this point you should have your brain examined by specialists, but do you have a plan?”

Jim shook his head. “I don’t have a charge that will stick yet.”

“I do,” Oswald said. “It’s called a sticky grenade and the payoff is worth the mess.”

“You want to blow him up?” Ed asked, his head tilted like a cat deciding if something is interesting or not.

“Blow him up, stab him, shoot him.” Oswald shrugged. “The method isn’t as important as the outcome of him being dead.”

“We’ve gotta head back to the station,” Harvey said, pointedly ignoring the current conversation. “People are looking for you and Barnes has issued a warrant for your arrest.”

“What? I didn’t do anything!”

“Oh, but this is the good part.” Looking at Ed, Harvey took a deep breath. “Galavan came in a few hours after you left with a bloody nose and a dislocated wrist, saying you attacked him.”

“The wounds were so superficial,” Ed interjected. “I tried to convince Barnes that a run in with you wouldn’t be so neat and there would be some broken bones at least.”

“Fuck.” Jim ran a hand through his hair. “Go, don’t let him suspect you’re helping me.”

Harvey grabbed Ed’s arm. “Let’s go, Riddle Boy.”

“The man who makes it doesn’t use it; the man who buys it doesn’t need it; the man who uses it doesn’t know it. What is it?”

“God damn it, Ed,” Harvey said, pulling on his arm.

“A coffin,“ Oswald said absentmindedly and Jim noted the bright smile Ed shot Oswald before Harvey dragged him all the way out of the room.

A fierce rush of possessiveness hit Jim and he grappled with the sudden urge to rip Ed’s face off. “Oswald, can I talk to you in private?”

Cocking his head, Oswald nodded and stood, helping Jim into the bedroom and closing the door.

“What is it?” He asked, sitting on the bed with a leg tucked under him.

“Are you sure this is how you want to do this?” Jim paced the room, all the ways they could die or be arrested running through his head.

“I’ve wanted to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze ever since I saw my mother held captive in a tiny cell,” Oswald hissed, leaning forward and grabbing Jim’s sleeve.

Jim stopped pacing and looked down at him, realizing how close Oswald was to exploding.

“There’s good for Gotham and there’s bad for Gotham and we both know which category he falls into,” Oswald told him, taking a breath and releasing Jim’s arm.

He pulled back and returned to his previous position on the bed. “He would have killed you, Jim.”

“I know.” Jim sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t want a bloodbath.” He looked down at the floor. “And I don’t want to see you hurt, or dead.”

Oswald stood and walked to Jim. “Hardest sons of bitches to kill, remember?”

Jim smiled and wrapped his arms around himself. “It’s only true till it’s not. I’m going against my captain, the law, everything I’m supposed to stand for.”

“The law changes all the time,” Oswald said with a smile. “A few weeks ago, Gotham stopped giving tickets to people who played music in their cars too loud.”

“That’s not the same thing,” Jim argued, but he smiled as he looked at Oswald. “Planning murder still doesn’t sit so well with me.”

“Well, you get me there,” Oswald said, patting his arm. “I’ll do the rest.”

“Ha, that doesn’t make me feel better.” Sighing in defeat, Jim stepped forward and drew Oswald into a hug.

Oswald stiffened at the contact, but Jim’s heart picked up speed as he relaxed and returned the gesture. Jim wanted to stay in the moment for hours, just stand in silence and enjoy the feel of Oswald in his arms. A knock at the door drew them back to the real world.

“Who is it?” Jim asked as he stepped back and looked away, letting Oswald regain his composure.

“I’ve got that Bullock guy on your phone,” Gabe said through the door. “Should I have him call back?”

Jim groaned and straightened his clothes. “No, I’ll be right there.” He looked at Oswald. “Even if it feels shitty, I know Gotham’s better off with Galavan dead. I’ll deal with the aftermath.”

“I’ll help.” Oswald’s sweet smile bolstered Jim’s resolve and he opened the door to find Gabe and Victor Zsasz staring at him.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Zsasz said, his sing song voice grating on Jim’s nerves. “I need to speak to the boss man. You done with him?”

He scowled as he grabbed the phone. “Don’t upset him.” He put the phone to his ear. “What is it?”

“Hey, I have Lee here, she says she needs to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Man, I don’t know. She’s giving me that look. You know, the ‘if you ask, I’ll rip out your liver’ look.”

“That’s a very specific look,” Jim said with a shudder. “Okay, bring her by the apartment.”

“Thanks.”

Jim hung up the phone and threw it on the couch. Oswald and Zsasz stood in the door of the bedroom, their heads almost touching while they whispered, and Jim couldn’t see Gabe anywhere. Oswald’s recruits, who must have come in with Zsasz, stared at him like he could attack at any minute. Ignoring them, Jim walked over to the mysterious crate and glanced inside. Guns of all shapes and sizes say on one side of the box while bullet proof vests and a couple of helmets took up the other side. Jim spotted a couple of grenades and huffed in amusement.

_A charge that will stick. He’s funny, when did he get funny?_

Looking towards the bedroom, he saw Oswald and Zsasz still talking. Deciding to simply wait for Harvey to return, Jim flopped onto the couch and turned on the T.V.

Some old sitcom rerun played and Jim stared at the screen, but his mind drifted to the hug he’d shared with Oswald and the way he fit perfectly in his arms. The memory softened Jim’s mood and he glanced back to Oswald, watching his animated face while his arms flew in every direction like he was conducting the most out of control orchestra. Slowly dragging his eyes over Oswald’s form, Jim cataloged every detail, placing them in his mind like objects in a time capsule.

_He’s short, scrawny, his eyes are too pale and his face is too pinched, and he’s utterly beautiful. When did I stop seeing The Penguin and start seeing Oswald again?  
I can’t lose him, not now. He can’t die. _

Harvey and Lee entered the apartment and scattered his thoughts. His anxiety levels doubled at the sight of Alfred and Lucius Fox following behind. Lee spotted him first and hurried to his side.

“I need to speak with you now,” she said, holding up a hand as Harvey and Alfred tried to talk. “Jim, I’m pregnant.”

Silence filled the room as Jim stared at her, panic setting into his heart as her words penetrated his brain. He looked around the apartment and everyone turned back to their tasks, intent on ignoring him. Looking at Oswald, Jim saw him shake his head and then disappear into the bathroom. Turning back to Lee, he dragged her to a corner, away from anyone who might be fond of eavesdropping.

“Are you sure?” He asked, causing her to scoff and roll her eyes.

“I wouldn’t tell you if I wasn’t sure,” Lee responded, her voice wavering like she might cry. “I had a check up today and I can call the doctor if you want to get snippy.”

“No, no, sorry.” He scratched at the back of his neck, not sure what to do in the situation. “It’s a surprise is all.” His eyes widened. “What do you want to do?”

She laughed and then covered her mouth and coughed. “Now it’s what I want to do?” Leaning back on her heels and closing her eyes, she took a breath and let it out slowly. “We broke up because I thought you weren’t going to stop running headlong into the darkness until it stole your soul. Seeing you yesterday, it made me realize that I might have been a little less than fair to you.”

“Hey, don’t. I deserved it,” Jim said, reaching out and stroking her arm. “These past few weeks have been hard on us all.”

Lee laughed and sniffed, rubbing at her nose. “Yeah. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I want you back. I want to raise this child with you.” Her hand cupped his cheek. “Come with me. Leave Gotham tonight and let things settle down. Let’s just get away from it all for a while.”

Jim smiled, sad and slow, and brought her hand away from his face. “I, I’m sorry Lee. I’ll be there for the child, you know I will.” He took a breath and held her gaze. “I’m all wrong for you, though. I can’t leave. I won’t let him take on Galavan alone.”

“Him?” Lee pulled away and looked over Jim’s shoulder. “The Penguin? You’re staying for him?”

“I’m staying for Gotham, and Oswald,” Jim said, his voice hard and determined even as tears formed in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lee. I can’t give up.”

“I’m begging you, Jim. Please.”

Jim shook his head. “See, this is why we can’t work. I’m sorry.”

Looking down at her feet, she dug out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “I still can’t stay here. I’m going to stay with my folks for a bit and hope you see reason.” She looked back up and her tear-filled eyes tugged at his heart.

“That sounds smart. I want you to stay safe, Lee.” Giving her a kiss on the forehead, he led her to the door, his mind whirling with the idea of becoming a father. “A kid, wow.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lee said with a huff. “It wasn’t on my agenda either.”

“You know I’ll support you, no matter what you decide.” Jim smiled, imagining a dark haired child with an easy smile and dimples. “I’ll be here for you and the kid, you know that, right?”

Lee nodded, giving him a fond look. “You’re a good man, Jim. They don’t deserve you.”

Jim looked back at Oswald, his throat tight and his voice small. “I’m not that good.”

Lee’s eyes widened and she stared between Jim and Oswald in shock. Seeing her realization play out on her face, Jim rushed her out into the hall and closed the door.

“Lee, please, don’t say anything,” Jim pleaded, grasping her arms and making her look at him. “For my sake, please, don’t.”

“He’s a psychopath, Jim!” Confusion and hurt flooded her face, but she kept her voice down. “Is he why you won’t give us another chance?”

Releasing her arms and clutching at his head, Jim nodded. “You said it yourself. I’m happier now than I’ve been in a while.” He looked toward the door. “I think he’s the main reason.”

“I can’t even process this right now,” Lee said, holding up her hands and heading towards the stairs.

“I’ll call you when it’s safe to come back,” Jim told her as she walked away.

Looking behind her, Lee gave him a small nod and kept walking, Jim left standing outside his apartment and watching her leave.

_I can’t even imagine me as a dad._

When Lee’s head disappeared down the staircase, Jim reentered his apartment and Alfred and Lucius rushed to meet him at the door.

“Bruce is missing,” Lucius said.

“Galavan has Bruce,” Alfred said at the same time.

Fear clawed at Jim’s throat and chest. “How long ago was this?”

“I don’t know, all I know is I got home and the living room looked a mess and Bruce was gone.” Alfred walked over to the crate sitting in the middle of the living room and pulled out a couple of handguns. “Are we going to get my boy or not?”

“We can’t go in with guns blazing,” Oswald said, his voice cutting through the tension. “They’ll kill the boy before we have a chance to make it through the gate.”

“Is there anyone who knows another way in?” Jim asked as he walked to stand next to Oswald. “Element of surprise is looking really good right now.”

“I know a way in.”

Jim spun around and found Selina perched in his window, her face twisted with worry.

“Who is she?” Lucius asked, a look of confusion on his face.

“Cat, this is Fox, Fox, Cat.” Harvey gestured to between them, a smirk on his face like he enjoyed their animal name similarities.

“You know a way in?” He asked, ignoring the fact that she’d just broke into his house.

“Yeah, I know a way in, Gordon.” She sounded like she was waiting for him to challenge her.

“How do we know you won’t stitch us up?” Alfred asked. “You’ve switched sides often enough.”

Cat glared at him as he kept talking.

“How do we know that you’re not working for Galavan now?” The worry in Alfred’s voice reminded Jim that they didn’t have time to sit around and argue while Bruce was still in Galavan’s hands.

“How do I know you’re not a Martian in a rubber suit?” Cat shot back.

“I trust her,” Jim said, putting an end to the argument. “You’re in, Cat. Thanks for your help.” He gestured to the crate, full of guns and safety equipment. “Grab a vest, let’s go.”

“Shouldn’t we have a backup strategy?” Lucius asked, an expression of total disbelief on his face. “Given the strong possibilities of failure?”

Oswald stepped forward with a rifle over his shoulder and a wide smile. “Au contraire, Mr. Fox. Failure is not an option.”

Lucius’s skeptic expression didn’t change and Jim felt for him; he looked completely out of his depth.

Grinning wide, Jim walked to Oswald and clapped him on the back. “What he said.”

Lucius sighed and nodded as if resigned to his fate. “As you like.”

Jim took in the room and the gear strapped to everyone’s side and gave a small nod to Zsasz, the assassin currently twirling his gun between his fingers and whistling.

“Let’s go,” Jim said, hoping his bravado masked the fear circling in his mind.

The group filed out of the room, Cat and Zsasz leading the way, while Oswald stayed back and hovered around the couch. Jim appreciated the solidarity and waited for Harvey and Alfred to head down the stairs before he turned to Oswald with a small smile.

“Ready?”

“Are you?” Oswald asked, his voice cold as he shifted the rifle on his shoulder. “Lee’s expecting, huh?”

Jim swallowed hard, the air choking him with tension as he nodded. “Yeah, she wanted me to leave with her.”

“Why didn’t you?” Oswald looked ready for a fight, his hands squeezing around the stock of his shotgun.

“I can’t leave while Galavan is still out there.” Pointing at the open door, Jim silently begged Oswald to realize that he wasn’t leaving him, not again.

“Happy days then.” Oswald smiled, but Jim couldn’t read any happiness in his eyes. “Let’s kill Galavan and return you to your new family.”

Jim stepped forward and Oswald moved away from him. “She asked me back.” Taking another step, he cornered Oswald against the door to the bedroom. “I told her I couldn’t.” He glanced down at Oswald’s lips, marking the way his mouth trembled. “I couldn’t because-”

Grabbing Jim’s jacket, Oswald pulled him close and pressed a kiss against his mouth. Jim froze for a moment before he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Oswald, holding him tight and deepening the kiss. It wasn’t a long kiss, but Jim pushed all his passion and need into the gesture and when they broke apart, Oswald gasped and his eyes widened until they seemed to cover half his face.

“I just,” Oswald started, catching his breath before speaking again. “I needed to know what that felt like, in case of disaster.”

Jim leaned forward and kissed him again, a soft and tender kiss that sent heat through his entire body. Oswald melted into him like an iceberg in the desert.

Stepping back, Jim smiled at Oswald’s flushed face and gaping mouth. “I couldn’t because there’s someone else and I think I might love them, him.”

Oswald gasped and closed his mouth, bringing a hand up to caress his lips.

“Are you guys coming or are you just going to make out while we rescue Bruce?” Cat’s snarky comment threw Jim back to reality and he turned around with a growl.

“Are you ever going to stop sneaking into my house?”

“Are you ever going to get a proper lock?”

“We’re going, now,” Oswald said, breaking up the verbal combat and pushing past Jim to head to the door. Jim followed and as they passed Cat, he pinched his lips together and twisted them like a key in a lock.

“Whatever you saw, keep it to yourself,” he whispered as he bent close to her ear. “I said I trust you, so don’t make me regret it.”

“Calm down, Gordon,” Cat said, patting his arm and throwing him a sympathetic look. “I’ve got more important things going on than your excuse for a love life.”

“Thanks,” Jim said, giving her a grateful smile as she bounded out of the building to where the rest of the group was standing.

“There you are!” Alfred looked ready to burst. “Can we go before we’re late and I have to bury another Wayne in this goddamn town?”

Jim nodded and Cat raced forward, headed for the row of cars parked along the street. Gabe stood next to one of them and Jim followed Oswald to the sleek black vehicle. Oswald stopped him and pointed to Alfred.

“Maybe you should ride with him and make sure he’s not in a fit by the time we reach Galavan’s,” Oswald said, squeezing Jim’s arm as Gabe opened his door for him.

Jim laughed and stepped back. “Don’t start getting selfless on me now. I won’t know how to take it.”

Oswald chuckled and threw his rifle into the seat next to him, sliding into the car and out of sight. Giving the tinted windows a small wave, Jim ran over to where Harvey and Alfred were arguing and slammed his hand on the hood of the car.

“I don’t care who drives so long as we don’t arrive so late that we get stuck with clean up duty.” Jim jumped into the back seat and grinned as Harvey handed his keys over to Alfred and got in the passenger seat.

“It’s my car,” Harvey grumbled, holding onto the dash as Alfred started the car and threw it into reverse, spinning them around like a professional driver and following Gabe out into the street.

 

*******

 

Cat proved true to her word and when the garage door swung open, Jim could have hugged her. She led them towards a twisting staircase and Victor raced her to the top while Harvey groaned at the seemingly endless stairs. Jim’s admiration for Oswald grew with every floor they reached, and he appreciated his breathtaking tenacity to keep up with everyone, even though Jim knew his leg must be killing him. Every time Harvey complained, Jim looked at Oswald and shook his head. Reaching the top of the stairs, Jim leaned against the wall and caught his breath, waving Cat and Victor in to investigate.

“How are you doing?” Jim whispered as Oswald planted himself against the wall.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Oswald responded, a small giggle escaping him as Harvey came huffing up the stairs. “Maybe a few less donuts and a few more sit ups, Detective Bullock?”

Harvey flipped him the middle finger, but didn’t have enough air to speak. Cat reappeared at the door and waved them through.

“They’re in some weird ceremonial room,” Cat told them, quivering in anger as she looked at Jim.

“They are preparing to sacrifice the boy now, so we might want to move,” Zsasz said, cleaning under his nails with a small knife and looking bored with the entire situation.

Jim glared, but didn’t spare another moment for Zsasz’s theatrics. “Check your weapons, we’re going in hot.”

Bursting into the room, Jim aimed his rifle at the man holding a knife up in front of a pillar, brandishing it towards a tied up Bruce Wayne.

“Nobody move!” Jim shouted while shots rang out behind him as Zsasz found moving targets.

“Sacrilege!” The man with the knife shouted and more men in black robes stepped forward, standing between Jim and his men and Bruce.

Chaos exploded around him as Jim fired into the advancing men, bullets flying as the robed men attacked. Spinning in a circle and smiling like a kid in a candy store, Zsasz took on half the room with Harvey providing cover fire. Oswald concentrated his shots on reaching Galavan, the blasts throwing men into the walls and clearing his path. Alfred fired into the mass of men until he could reach the center of the room and he used the opportunity to untie Bruce and get him out of the way, Gabe keeping anyone from attacking the two from behind. Jim kept tabs on Galavan, watching as he grabbed the blond girl and disappeared down the hall with his sister following behind him.

“Jim, go, I think we’ve got this,” Harvey said and took out a man inching closer to Gabe.

Zsasz pulled Harvey back and shot a robed man as he tried to take off after Jim. “Bye now, boys, don’t have too much fun.”

Shaking his head at Zsasz’s morbid sense of humor, Jim followed Galavan’s trail, Oswald close behind. A thump behind one of the doors captured Jim’s attention and he pointed to the closed door. With Oswald flanking the other side, Jim kicked down the door and pointed his rifle towards the middle of the room. Laying on the carpet, wiping blood from his face, was Theo Galavan. He looked up as they entered.

“Well, if it isn’t the calvary,” he spat. “Are you here to arrest me again?”

Jim didn’t answer him. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and tossed them to Galavan. “Put these on.”

“Jim, we talked about this.” Oswald stepped forward and pointed his shotgun at Galavan’s head. “My way this time.”

“I know.” Jim stepped between the rifle and Galavan. “Please, just listen to me.”

Oswald laughed, the hollow sound filled with despair. “You were never planning on letting me kill him,” he said, shoving the barrel of his gun into Jim’s chest. “I told you I wouldn’t let you stop me this time.”

“So, shoot me,” Jim said, holding still and giving Oswald a chance to see his face.

_Please, realize what I’m doing._

“Mr. Cobblepot, you’re under arrest.”

Jim groaned as Barnes’ voice filled the room. He looked up to see Barnes standing in the doorway and Jim relaxed as he saw that he was alone.

“Put your gun down and turn around with your hands up,” Barnes continued, entering the room with his pistol drawn. “Jim, you alright?”

“Yes, sir,” he said, keeping his eyes on Oswald.

Whatever Oswald saw in his face, it was enough to make him lower his gun and roll his eyes, turning around and lifting his arms up while Barnes’ approached.

“I’ve arrested Galavan, sir,” Jim said, stepping aside so his captain could see Galavan handcuffed and kneeling on the floor. “He was trying to kill Bruce Wayne when we arrived.”

“We?” Barnes’ said, stepping over to where Galavan lay.

As he stared down at the grinning man, Oswald picked up a nearby vase and broke it over Barnes’ head. Galavan laughed. Jim caught him as Barnes fell and lowered him safely to the floor.

Looking up at Oswald, Jim sighed. “I know he has to die, Oswald. I didn’t want to do it here. There’s too many ways it could go wrong.”

Oswald looked at Galavan and then back at Barnes. “You didn’t know he was coming?”

“Of course not,” Jim said, picking up his gun and waving it at Galavan. “I guess Fox decided we needed backup.”

“Victor never needs backup,” Oswald said with a small smile. “I guess I should apologize for pointing a gun at you then.”

“You’re not really going to kill me, are you, Gordon? You are an officer of the law!” Galavan tried to pull away and Jim tightened his grip on his arm.

“I’m not going to kill you,” Jim told him. “He is.” He pointed at Oswald whose wicked smile sent a shiver down his spine.

“He’s a two-bit criminal,” Galavan said with a sneer. “Whatever he’s got on you, Gordon, I can make it go away.”

Jim stayed silent and pulled Galavan behind him until they reached the room full of dead monks. Gabe and Harvey leaned against the wall and Zsasz looked like he was checking bodies to make sure everyone was dead.

“We’re taking him with us, anyone got a problem with that?” Jim asked.

“Taking who?” Harvey asked, smirking at Galavan. “All I see are you and Cobblepot going for a stroll.”

“Thanks, Harv.” Jim yanked Galavan along and Oswald held the door open.

It was a silent elevator ride, neither Jim or Oswald wanting to speak with Galavan listening. Reaching the row of cars, Jim moved to place Galavan in the back seat of Gabe’s vehicle, but Oswald stopped him.

“We are taking him somewhere to die, let’s at least follow tradition.” Oswald pointed to the trunk and Jim grinned.   

Galavan fought against him, but Jim pushed him into the trunk and slammed the lid shut. Oswald threw him the keys and climbed into the passenger seat. Starting the car, Jim pulled away from the mansion, keeping the lights off as they moved through the quiet neighborhood.

“Where are we taking him?” Jim asked, flipping on his lights as they reached the outskirts of the city.

“Let’s go to the beach,” Oswald said, looking over at Jim with a smile.

“A nighttime swim does sound nice.” Giving Oswald a smile of his own, Jim followed the narrow road towards the beach and parked in the empty lot.

“Oswald,” Jim started, only to have Oswald place a hand on his arm and pull him close.

Pressing their lips together, Jim kissed his worry into Oswald’s mouth and let him soothe the panic about what was about to happen.

“It’s going to be alright,” Oswald said once he’d pulled away. “For my mother and for every person Galavan has had murdered to further his own agenda.”

Jim nodded and exited the car. While he understood why they had to do this, he was very aware of the irony of him dragging Galavan out of the back of the trunk and the strange circumstances that led him to save Oswald from this very fate.

“Jim, you know this is wrong.” Galavan’s voice felt like needles to his brain as Jim led him onto the sand. “What does that moral compass of yours think about all of this?”

His moral compass stayed silent, no longer berating him with what he should be doing and Jim stayed silent as well, refusing to let Galavan get under his skin. Oswald came up behind Jim with a baseball bat and Galavan paled at the menacing rage in his face. Jim stepped back, letting Oswald take his place while he watched. He wouldn’t participate, but he drove the man here and he would watch him die, that much he could do.

_For Oswald, I can do this._

“This is for my mother,” Oswald said, his voice cracking on the last word as he unleashed all the fury and pain that he’d kept buried while under Jim’s care. The baseball bat thudded against flesh and bone and Jim counted each swing.

Galavan looked up at him. “Please, kill me.”

Jim didn’t move, watching as Galavan at last lost consciousness and his body grew limp. Swinging the baseball bat twice more, Oswald threw it behind him and fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands as he cried. Jim moved, sinking to the sand beside him and wrapping his arms around him. He held tight, letting Oswald release the last of his hurt and grief into the warmth of his chest. Looking down at Galavan, he found the man staring up at him in disbelief. Pulling out his gun, Jim shot him between the eyes and then dropped it to return to his hold on Oswald. Kneeling in sand wasn’t the most comfortable position and when Jim shifted to sit, Oswald crawled into his lap and draped his arms around his neck.

“It’s done,” Jim said softly.

“Thank you, Jim.” Burying his cold nose in Jim’s neck, Oswald took deep breaths as his tears dried on his face.

“We need to dump the body.”

“I want to display it,” Oswald countered, pulling back to look behind him. “Show this city what happens when someone tries to take on The Penguin.”

“Even if I was on board with displaying him, if we dump the body, we can buy ourselves some time and delay forensics.” Jim ran a hand through Oswald’s hair and brought their foreheads together. “The message isn’t worth us going to jail.”

Oswald sighed. “I brought an umbrella and everything.” He pushed against Jim’s shoulders and stood, wincing at the pain in his leg while he stretched.

Jim stood up and lifted his arms over his head, working out the kinks while Oswald stared at Galavan’s dead body.

“We should dump him in the water,” Oswald said at last. “Weigh him down with something and let him sink.”

“Very mobster of you,” Jim responded.

Oswald giggled. “I’m sure Gabe has a block of cement in the car somewhere.”

“Let’s put him back in the trunk and find a dock,” Jim suggested, looking at the body and shivering.

Putting an arm around Jim, Oswald leaned into his side. “Will you be alright?”

“Selflessness and concern? In one night?” Jim kissed Oswald’s head. “Who are you and what have you done with my Oswald?”

“Your Oswald?”

“Yeah, that’s the part you focus on.”

“I’ve never been anyone’s anything,” Oswald whispered.

Jim’s chest hurt at those words, the marvel in Oswald’s voice at such a simple statement. “Well, you are now, if you want to be.”

Oswald nodded and cupped Jim’s face in his hand. “Let’s go dump a body.”

 


	9. Follow You Into the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald is in the wind for his own safety and Jim is missing him. A new case may be what it takes to keep his mind occupied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hugs* to all my readers! I'm ready to have a computer again, let me tell you...whew! Without much of my own rambling, here's the next chapter!
> 
> I can't say enough good things about [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) and all their hard work as my beta!
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

 

 

“Can you explain what happened next?”

Jim cleared his throat and looked around the courtroom. ”Mr. Cobblepot hit Captain Barnes in the head with a vase and held me at gunpoint while he and his men took Mayor Galavan and escaped. I tried to follow, but someone grabbed me and must have knocked me out. I woke up in my bed.”

“So you had nothing to do with Galavan’s disappearance?”

“You were there, sir,” Jim said, directing his gaze to Barnes. “You saw him holding me hostage.”

Barnes sighed and nodded at Harvey Dent. “That’s all the questions I have.”

Dent looked between the two of them and pursed his lips. “You’re free to go, Detective Gordon.”

Barnes held up his hand. “Stop by the station to pick up your badge and gun. I’ll have you fully reinstated as a detective when I get back.”

“Thank you.” Standing up, Jim walked through the courtroom and out into the hall to find his partner leaning against one of the stone pillars, head back and eyes closed.

His head shot up as Jim approached. “Well?”

“I’m officially a detective again,” Jim said with a  smile, clapping Harvey on the back. “So how about you treat me to some lunch?”

“What do you say to treating me to lunch?” Harvey shot back as he led the way outside. “All this has given me an ulcer.”

Giving his partner a sympathetic look, Jim pointed to the deli across the street. “Sandwiches, on me.”

“Now you’re talking.”

“Gordon, just a minute.” Barnes walked towards them, a frown on his face.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’ll have plenty for you to do when you get back to the station, so don’t be late.” He held out his hand. “I’m sorry we had to keep you out of the game for so long.”

“Have to follow protocol, sir,” Jim said, shaking his hand. “I understand.”

“Enjoy your lunch.” Barnes walked past them and jumped into his car.

Harvey shook his head. “That man is something else.” Turning to Jim, he waved him forward. “Sandwiches I believe were on the menu?”

Laughing at Harvey’s constant appetite, Jim led the way to the small deli and grabbed a table by the window. It didn’t take long for someone to come by and take their order and Jim laughed as Harvey ordered the largest Reuben sandwich with extra sauerkraut.

“I thought you had an ulcer?” Jim asked.

“Shut it. I eat what I want.” Sipping from his glass of water, Harvey tilted his head and regarded Jim with knowing eyes.

“How long?”

“How long? You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“How long since you and Penguin hooked up?”

Jim choked on his drink and wiped at his mouth, glaring at Harvey. “Keep your voice down.” He looked around the small deli, but no one was paying them any attention.

Harvey scoffed and pulled his tie loose. “I knew it. I knew there had to be a reason you two were getting so chummy.”

“Chummy is such a weird word,” Jim said, taking another drink to clear his throat. “I told you I might be into him and apparently, it’s not a passing thing.”

Harvey shuddered, but fell silent as two plates were delivered to their table. The sandwiches steamed from the meat and melted cheese and Jim’s stomach growled.

“Woah, this is fantastic,” Harvey said, talking around a huge mouthful.

Devouring his food, Jim couldn’t help but agree, though the food still didn’t compare to Oswald’s cooking. They ate in silence and Harvey waited until Jim had finished his last french fry before he brought up Oswald again.

“So, where is he then?” Harvey asked, wiping his face with a napkin.

Jim shrugged. “He moves around. Gabe is keeping him safe as far as I know and he doesn’t tell me where he’s moving to, so that I can honestly say I have no idea where he is.”

“But you stay in touch, right?”

Jim pulled out a phone, the bronze and black device very different from his standard black flip phone. “We stay in touch.” He gave Harvey a look of suspicion. “Why the interest?”

“Lee’s been asking about you,” Harvey said, chuckling as Jim coughed on his water again.

“Geez, stop doing that!” Wiping away the water that spilled down his throat, Jim waved down the waiter. “Check, please.”

“Right away,” the waiter said and scurried off.

“What does Lee want?” Jim asked.

“You, as far as I can tell.” Leaning forward, Harvey patted Jim on the arm. “You’ve got a kid on the way with a great woman and you’re knocking boots with a known criminal. This is not the route I thought you were headed down.”

Jim looked at the table.” Yeah, me either. And we’re not ‘knocking boots’ as you put it.”

“No? Then what are you hanging on for?”

“Harvey, did it ever occur to you that my relationship with Oswald is not like yours and Fish’s?

Harvey titled his head. “What?”

“It’s not about sex, or because it’s convenient.” Jim sighed and brushed a hand through his hair. “Hell, if I was looking for convenient, I’d just go back to Lee. “Jim leaned forward and met Harvey’s eyes. “I love him.”

Harvey stared and then let out a sigh. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll let Lee know you’ll be there for the next ultrasound, but that you’re officially off the market.” Letting the waiter put down the check, Harvey pulled out his wallet.

“Hey, I thought I was covering this!” Jim pulled out his own wallet, but Harvey put a hand on his arm.

“You’ve got a kid on the way,” Harvey said with a smile. “Let Uncle Harvey take care of it. Congratulations for getting your job back.”

“Yeah, tired of working with Parks?”

“She’s alright for a rookie.” He grinned. “She would have totally shot Cobblepot, though, and saved us all this drama.”

“Haha.” Standing up, Jim reached out and grabbed Harvey’s hand, giving him a firm shake before drawing him into a hug. “Thanks, Harv.”

“Don’t mention it,” Harvey said. “Seriously, don’t ever mention it.”

They left the deli side by side, and Jim was eager to get back to the station and his desk and even the hostile looks from his fellow officers. No matter what happened, he knew with Harvey by his side again, his day was looking up.

_I’ll call Oswald tonight and let him know the news. He’ll be happy about me being reinstated._

Jim missed him, more than he realized, and waking up alone in his bed every morning was putting a strain on his mood, but he needed Oswald to say away from Gotham until the heat from Galavan’s disappearance died down. Someone else was bound to come out of the woodwork and try to take on the GCPD and Barnes would focus on stopping the new threat. Oswald could come back and Jim could hold him again, sleep next to him.

_Geez, I need a cold shower just thinking about it._

The station didn’t clap as he walked through the doors, but Ed waved and Parks stood by his desk with a basket of cookies and a card, and it was the warmest welcome he’d received at the station in a long time.

“Thanks, Parks.” He opened the card and laughed at the get out of jail free card taped to the inside.

“In case you needed it, she said with a smile. “Glad to see you back and well.”

“It took some doing,” Jim took the basket and looked inside. Oswald’s favorite cookies, spice cookies with cinnamon icing, were wrapped in a cloth napkin next to a stack of chocolate chip cookies. “Who sent this?”

“Ed got the basket, I made the card,” Parks said, pointing towards the hallway as she headed down the stairs.

“Oh,” Jim glanced over to see Ed hovering out in the hall, watching him open the gift. “Thank you, Ed.”

He waved and disappeared into his office.

_Weird that he knows Oswald’s cookie preference._

Opening the phone that he’d discovered in his mailbox the day after they’d killed Galavan, Jim texted Oswald a picture of the cookie basket.

**One of these stacks is for you. When did you tell Ed about your love of spice cookies?**

Placing his phone in his pocket, Jim walked to Barnes’ office, knocking on the door and waiting to be let in. Barnes threw the door open and ushered him in.

“Badge, gun.” He pointed to the objects on his desk.

Jim picked up his things, clipping his badge to his belt with relief.

“Good, welcome back.” Sitting at his desk, Barnes pointed to the door. “Now get out. Bullock has the info on your new case.”

Jim resisted the urge to salute and left the office. Feeling armored against the world, he searched for Harvey and his partner waved him toward the coroner’s room.

“We got a dead cop, a frozen, dead cop.” Harvey handed him the report from the officer who found her and they walked into the medical examiners office to find Ed waiting for them.

“Hey, thanks again for the gift,” Jim said, willing his face into a smile. “I’ll enjoy them.”

“You’re welcome,” Ed said, looking between him and Harvey as if unsure of what else he could say in front of both of them.

“So, body?”

“Oh right,” Ed said with a slap to his forehead. “She’s been flash frozen, like someone stuck her in a bucket of liquid nitrogen.”

“Wouldn’t that take longer?”

“Yes, which is why I said ‘like’, if you were paying attention.”

“Don’t get snappy,” Harvey said, a threatening tone in his voice. “Lee ain’t here to protect you right now.”

Ed pushed up his glasses and glared at him. “In my opinion, helium was used.”

“As in, liquid helium?” Jim asked, looking down at the poor woman’s frozen corpse.

“Yes, exactly,” Ed said excitedly. “I don’t know anyone using it in the city, but there were a few places manufacturing it for Wayne Enterprises before Mr. Wayne shut them down.”

“Alright, thanks, Ed. We’ll check it out.”

“Yeah, thanks, Ed.”

“You’re welcome.” He pointed to the door. “Now please leave.”

Harvey scoffed. “What, no riddle today? Did I get lucky?”

“What goes up and goes down, but does not move?”

“You kind of asked for that,” Jim said with a laugh.

Harvey scowled and Ed grinned, looking as if he enjoyed Harvey’s discomfort.

“Give up?” He asked, looking between both of them.

Glaring at Jim, Harvey stalked out of the room and slammed the door.

“Alright, I give. What is it?”

“The temperature.”

Jim smiled and shook his head. “Never change, Ed.”

Ed cocked his head in confusion and for an instant, Jim thought he saw a peculiar expression of pity on his face, before it disappeared and Ed was smiling and pushing him out of the room.

Walking back to his desk, Jim placed the ME report on the top of his pile and pulled out his new phone. One new message blinked up at him.

**We’ve been talking since I left the city. He’s helped me plan where to hide.**

Frowning at his phone, Jim texted back and hoped he had the chance to talk to Oswald soon.

**Ed can know where you are but I can’t?**

Jim felt the familiar frustration of waiting setting into his bones. He needed something more than a text every few hours. A stir at the base of the stairs grabbed Jim’s attention and he stopped one of the officers rushing by.

“What’s happened?”

“Galavan,” the officer said in a rush. “They’ve found Galavan’s body.”

Jim let the man go and sat back in his chair. _Shit_.

He sent another text to Oswald. **Find a safe place to stay for a while. G has been found.**

Sliding his phone into his pocket, Jim stood and watched as a two men wheeled in a gurney with a black body bag on top and headed to the coroner’s office. As he watched Ed receive the body, he wished that Lee was back, that he didn’t have to rely on someone with a crush on Oswald to keep him out of jail.

_The body has to be pretty degraded by now. What will he be able to really tell?_

“I bet that thing is chewed to bits,” Harvey said from behind him, giving voice to his own desperate thoughts.

Jim sighed and turned around. “Might be hard to figure out what happened.”

“Yeah, Ed has his work cut out for him.” Harvey tapped his chest with a file. “Let’s go figure out how someone gets their hands on liquid helium.”

Nodding in agreement, Jim followed Harvey out onto the street, trying to ignore the lump in his throat and the spasms in his stomach. With Galavan found, Oswald wouldn’t be able to come back for a while and his heart felt heavy in his chest.

“You alright?” Harvey asked as they climbed in the car.

Jim shrugged. “It’s a setback is all.” He looked out the window while Harvey drove through the city. “I miss him.”

“I miss his cooking,” Harvey said with a grin.

Jim knew that he meant well, meant to lighten the mood, but he couldn’t join in. He worried and fretted about Oswald’s whereabouts while they checked possible locations for liquid helium. Finally, Harvey admitted that they should have started with Wayne Enterprises first and they headed out to talk to Lucius Fox.

The information about liquid helium and the experiments into cryogenics was fascinating, but without a paper trail, it looked as if they were at a dead end.

Harvey checked his watch as they headed back to the car. “We should grab some food.”

The radio crackled. “We have a 211 in progress at Park Surgical. Suspect is wielding some kind of freezing weapon. All units respond.”

Harvey jumped on the radio. “Dispatch, we’re on our way.”

Jim flipped the lights on and braced himself against the dashboard as they sped through the city. When they reached the pharmacy, Jim hopped out of the car and ran through the door, gun drawn as he scanned the room. Harvey joined him and they stared at the pharmacist behind the counter, frozen solid with his hands stretched out in front of him. Jim cursed and kicked the counter.

“Hey, go check the back,” Harvey told him, looking outside where more police cars were arriving. “I’ll see if the techs can get any evidence out here.”

Jim nodded and wandered through the rest of the store, his agitation growing as the search proved to be a waste of time. Walking back into the main room, Jim found Harvey talking with the forensics team.

“Leave nothing untouched,” Harvey said as Jim approached. “This guy has to have made a mistake somewhere.”

“Nothing in the back,” Jim said, holstering his gun.

“We can at least file this down at the station while we wait for forensics.”

“I hate waiting,” Jim said, venom coating his voice.

“Hey, it’s a part of life.” Harvey said with a smirk. “You can pout about it or you can suck it up.”

Jim snorted. “Sure, easy to say.”

“Dude, you gotta relax. Barnes is going to start digging again and if you can’t hold up, he’ll break a confession right out of you.” Harvey shook his head as they returned to the car and climbed in.

“I’m trying.” Jim leaned back in his seat and took steady breaths until he couldn’t handle the tension. “What if they can match the bullet to my gun? Or one of our fingerprints was found on the body?”

Harvey groaned and pushed harder on the gas. “Chill, alright? Do I gotta find this freak who’s been freezing people and tell him to make you chill out?”

“Yeah, fuck you too, Harvey.”

“Man, it’s good to have you back.” Harvey’s grin was infectious and Jim returned it with a nod.

As they entered the station, Jim looked around and felt time stop as his eyes passed over the holding cell. Sitting on the small wooden bench with his legs crossed and his arms behind his head, Oswald looked relaxed and completely oblivious to Jim’s arrival.

Harvey stepped in front of Jim and hissed in his ear. “You let it known that you’ve got a thing for him, and not one person in here is going to stick up for you if Barnes throws you to the wolves. Pull it together.”

Jim nodded and pushed all the air out of his lungs, breathing deep and walking up to the cell. He crossed his arms and conjured up all the worry and panic he’d been through these past few weeks and turned it into anger.

“I knew it was only a matter of time,” Jim said, sneering at Oswald. “Get tired of hiding like a rat?”

Oswald opened his eyes and slowly blinked. “Hello, Jim.”

“They’ll send you to Blackgate,” he said, stepping close and hissing out the words so his voice wouldn’t crack. “How long do you think you’ll survive in there?”

“Longer than a cop,” Oswald whispered, his voice barely audible in the din of the station. “Visit mother, would you? She’d like the company. Bring lilies if you want to leave flowers. Those were her favorite.”

Jim didn’t say anything, but he inclined his head and stepped back.

Closing his eyes again, Oswald blew out a breath of air and began humming to himself. Jim turned away in disgust and found Ed standing behind him, head tilted and a light of fascination in his eyes.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing,” Ed said cheerfully. “But Barnes was looking for you.”

“Fine.” Jim walked away, leaving Ed standing outside the cell and staring intently at Oswald.

Jim entered Barnes’ office and closed the door.

“Won’t talk, huh?” Barnes asked, looking up from the paperwork on his desk with a frown.

“Not to me,” Jim said with a shrug.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this now,” Barnes said and stalked out to the floor, nodding to one of the officers by the cell. “Put him in one of the interrogation rooms.”

Jim walked to his desk and sat down, his legs trembling and his heart racing.

_Why did he turn himself in? We still could have figured out a way to make this work._

He wanted to head to the listening room outside of wherever they were keeping Oswald, but he couldn’t trust himself not to freak out and cause a scene or make Barnes suspect that he wasn’t telling the truth. Forcing his mind away from Oswald’s capture, Jim read the transcript of the 911 call about the robbery and waited. Seeing Barnes exit the interrogation room, Jim turned back to the report, rereading each line while he waited for Barnes to call his name. When he didn’t hear his name, he looked up to see Barnes headed straight for his desk.

Jim took a sip of his coffee to settle his nerves. “Sir?”

“The guy’s a psychopath, but he did clear your name.” Barnes leaned against Jim’s desk with a frown. “They’ll be taking him to Arkham tonight.”

“Arkham?” Jim looked to where Oswald was being led back to the cell, a giant smile on his face. “Is that wise?”

“Wise? I don’t know.” Barnes examined his face and Jim held still under the judgment. “Don’t make me regret trusting you again, you hear me, Gordon?”

“Yes, sir,” Jim said, not breaking eye contact.

Barnes nodded and walked away, returning to his office and slamming the door. Jim took a moment to calm his racing heart and turned to look at Oswald. With a smile still on his face, Oswald stood by the bars and stared up at him, madness radiating off his face. From here, it was easy to see how Oswald had been sentenced to Arkham.

“Hey, Jim, check this out.” Harvey shoved a piece of paper in Jim’s face, breaking the staring contest he’d been having with Oswald.

“What is it?”

“Well, since I’m pretty much amazing at this detective shit, I had the nerds search through the video from the pharmacy to see if we could catch a name on anything. The guy was there for meds, right? Why else do you go to a pharmacy?” He pointed at the piece of paper. “They were able to pull something off the label on the bottle. Check it out.”

Jim read the blurry photo, the name Fries enlarged on an orange bottle of prescription pills. “Good work, Harv.”

“Like I said, I’m amazing.” He slipped on his coat while he talked. “The husband was a scientist working with cryogenics when his wife fell ill. He stays at home to take care of her.” He threw Jim’s coat at him. “Let’s go.”

Jim grabbed his coat and gave Oswald’s cell a final glance before hurrying after Harvey. They arrived at the Fries residence, a small two story house, and began clearing rooms when Jim heard someone moving in the basement. Harvey headed down the stairs, Jim guarding his back. There was a beat of silence before Jim saw Harvey put his gun away.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” Harvey asked, stepping further into the large basement..

Jim leaned down and his eyes widened. Two frozen corpses rested on a pair of metal tables and a woman stood next to one of them, her hand over her mouth. She turned to Harvey and fell forward and he caught her before she could hit the floor. Carrying her up the stairs, Harvey put her in the wheelchair next to the door.

“We’re going to have to take you to the station, ma’am,” Harvey said, his voice soft and gentle as the woman struggled to breathe.

Jim left Harvey with Mrs. Fries and called in their discovery. He stayed outside and waited for the forensics team and their escort showed up to take Mrs. Fries back to the station.

_He surrendered for me, to keep me out of trouble. I can’t let him do this, but I have to let him. Fuck._

He rubbed his hands together and huddled in his coat for warmth. He needed to do something, anything to distract him from thinking about how Oswald would survive in Arkham while he stayed a free man. Walking the street in front of the Fries house, he counted his steps and let out a sigh of relief when the sound of sirens filled the air. Harvey brought out Mrs. Fries, helping her into a squad car and putting her wheelchair in the trunk.

“I told her we’d meet her at the station,” Harvey said, his face grave. “I don’t know how much longer she’s going to hold up.”

Jim nodded and headed to the car, Harvey running to catch up to him.

“Hey, we’ll figure this out,” Harvey said with a smile, sliding into his seat and starting the car.

Sitting in the car, Jim put his head in his hands and tried not to scream. Oswald being sent to Arkham weighed heavier on his heart than Galavan’s murder.

“He’s going to Arkham.” Jim looked over at Harvey and then down to the floor as his eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know how to stop it from happening.”

“You can’t, man. Even if you confess or some shit, it’ll be you in Blackgate and him in Arkham and a whole lot of idiocy between the two of you.”

“I know, I know!” Jim punched the dash as he yelled, releasing some of his rage at the situation.

“Hey, my car didn’t do anything to you!” Harvey patted the dashboard as he glared at Jim. “There’s nothing we can do right now about Oswald, so let’s focus on our actual case, alright?”

Clenching his jaw, Jim nodded and shifted his gaze to the lights of Gotham. _I’ll figure this out. Hang in there, Oswald._

At the station, Harvey brought Nora Fries to one of the interrogation rooms while Jim reported to Barnes about the experiments happening in the basement. He turned at a strange noise coming from outside the office and stared in horror as the pharmacist who’d been frozen came out of the morgue and walked through the bullpen.

“Holy shit,” Jim said, racing out of Barnes’ office.

He stopped the pharmacist before he could make it to the door and two officers grabbed the man’s arms and led him back to the coroner’s office. He stopped and stared at Lee’s presence, her baby bump now fully visible beneath her shirt.

“Jim, what is going on?”

“I’ll explain later, just keep him here for now.” He gave her a quick hug and raced to the interrogation room where Harvey was questioning Mrs. Fries.

“Mrs. Fries, we need to know your husband’s location,” Jim said, pointing to the bullpen. “We just had a man get up and walk out of the morgue.”

Her eyes widened and she smiled in happy relief. “It worked. He did it.”

“Did what?” Harvey asked with trepidation.

“I don’t think I want to talk anymore,” she said.

“Ma’am, please, we need to stop him before he kills again.” Leaning against the table, Jim tried to meet her eyes, but she looked down at her lap and didn’t say a thing.

“I know he’s your husband,” Harvey said with a smile. “But he’s hurting people and we’re trying to stop him. Please help us.”

“I’m helping my husband, not you.” She shook her head and kept her head down. “He might be doing terrible things, but he’s doing them for me, for love.”

Jim stood up and paced the room. “You’re dying and he’s trying to freeze you, isn’t that right? Bring you back when science has a cure?”

She looked up at him, but didn’t say anything. Jim took her silence as a yes.

“So, we saw with the pharmacist that he’s able to freeze people and bring them back.” Jim walked to her side and picked up the napkin under her coffee cup, using it to wipe away the blood from her mouth. “He’s going to need to freeze you soon.”

She grabbed the napkin and held it to her lip. “It’s called loyalty, something I’m sure your kind knows nothing about.”

Jim scoffed and stormed out of the room. Waiting by the door, he glanced at the cell where Oswald was being held and found it empty. The sight broke a piece of his heart, a jagged fragment tearing away inside his chest to settle like iron in his stomach.

_No. It’s too soon._

Time stilled as he stared at the empty cell and he didn’t register Harvey next to him until his said his name.

“Earth to Jim, hello!”

Jumping out of his head, Jim looked at Harvey. “What?”

“Mrs. Fries is resting at the moment and I’m fried.” He brushed a hand across his face. “What do you say we pick this up tomorrow?”

“Yeah, alright.” Jim gave Harvey’s arm a light punch. “Go get your beauty rest.”

“Like I need it with this face,” Harvey joked.

Jim waved at him and headed to Barnes’ office.

“Jim, don’t do it!” Harvey called out, but Jim ignored him and knocked on the door.

Barnes opened it and frowned. “What are you still doing here? Go home.”

“I’d like permission to visit Oswa-The Penguin in Arkham,” Jim said, standing at attention with his eyes focused on a point beyond his captain’s head.

Barnes’ frown deepened and he stepped aside. “Come in. Sit down.”

Jim sat across from Barnes and watched him rest his head on his fists, a look of contemplation on his broad face.

“I’ve looked into your history with The Penguin,” Barnes said, his voice full of disapproval. “I’m not saying the man hasn’t been useful to the department once upon a time.” His face hardened. “That time is over.”

“He could still be an asset to us, sir,” Jim argued. “There’s still so much we don’t know about-”

“I don’t care,” Barnes interrupted. “If we need anything from him, I will go and get it myself. Permission denied.”

Jim pressed his lips into a thin line and stood up. “Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Detective Gordon.” Barnes leaned back in his chair and Jim nodded stiffly as he walked out of the office.

_I’ll have to sneak in. Fuck._

Harvey was already gone when Jim left Barnes’ office, so Jim hailed a taxi and kept his eyes on the driver throughout the entire drive. He tipped him more than necessary to make up for the awkward staring. Climbing up to his apartment felt like walking along death row, his guilt and sorrow sinking into his bones

The apartment held whispers of Oswald, a tea cup by the sink, the throw blanket folded and on the back of the couch, and a suit vest draped over the foot of bed. Jim picked up the vest and held it to his chest, not bothering to fight the tears as they dripped down his face and into the fabric. He kicked off his shoes and fell onto the bed, still holding the vest tight while he fell asleep.


	10. Learn to be Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Jim flounders with the Mr. Freeze case, his mind is distracted with thoughts of Oswald in Arkham and he ends up putting people he cares about at risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double digit chapters, can you believe it? Okay, maybe you can, but I'm starting to sweat over how long this story is turning out to be. hope you enjoy and please let me know in the comments, they make my day!
> 
> As always, thanks to [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) who's a wonderful beta and friend.  
> All other mistakes are my own.
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

“Faster, we’re going to miss him again!” 

The car swerved around corners as fast as Harvey could make it while still holding onto the steering wheel and they reached Ace Chemicals in a squeal of tires. The place looked empty and Jim groaned as they entered the building and found a man frozen in place with a message from the now known Mr. Freeze.

“Release his wife.” Harvey shook his head at the message. “Yeah, when you surrender yourself, bucko!”

Jim threw an exasperated look at Harvey and searched the rest of the building, figuring out how much liquid helium the man had stolen, as well as what equipment was missing. 

“This is going to get bad for everyone if we don’t find a way to stop him,” Jim said as he made his way back to his partner.

“How do you stop a guy with the power of Antarctica strapped to his back?” Harvey asked, gesturing to the frozen man on the floor.

Jim stared around the warehouse. “We need to lure him to a defensible location.” Jim looked up at Harvey and grinned. “And I know exactly where.”

Harvey slapped his forehead. “Don’t say it, Jim. Don’t say it.”

“We should get him to come to Arkham.”

“You said it.” Heaving a big sigh, Harvey turned and surveyed the ice covered room. “How do you propose we get him there?”

“That’s easy.” Jim put away his gun, the plan already clicking into place as he talked. “What’s the number one way to manipulate anyone?”

“Offer free shit?”

Jim laughed and shook his head. “No, it’s love. We tell him that’s where his wife is.” Jim wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and walked out of the building.

“How in the hell are you going to get Barnes to sign off on this?” Harvey asked, following him out. “You know Barnes doesn’t want you anywhere near Arkham.”

“I’ll worry about that. You worry about how you’re going to get Lee to sign off on bringing Mrs. Fries to Arkham.”

Harvey winced and ducked his head. “Damn it.”

 

*******

 

“You want to do what?” Barnes walked behind Jim and closed his door. “I thought we talked about this.”

“This has nothing to do with The Penguin, sir. I know he’s exactly where he needs to be.” Jim kept his voice steady and his hands behind his back. “This is about having a place away from the innocent public where we can trap and hold someone like Mr. Fries.”

Barnes scowled, but looked at the map of Arkham with interest. “The medical facilities only has one entrance and we’d be using his wife as bait. What if he figures out it’s a trap?”

“Even if he does, sir. He’ll still come. This has been his goal from day one.” Jim pointed to the medical wing. “There are gates we can lock down as he passes through them and we can crank up the heat once we have him in custody.”

Barnes shook his head. “I won’t be able to send many men with you.”

“I know, sir, but it’s still our best bet. Mrs. Fries won’t give up any information on him while she’s in custody and he’ll want to reach her as fast as he can, regardless of whether it’s a trap.” Jim tapped the map. “I think it’s a shot worth taking.”

Barnes looked at him for a long moment before nodding. “Alright. You’ve got the go-ahead. Any little thing seems fishy though, I’ll haul you out of there so fast, you’ll leave skid marks on the floor.”

Jim inclined his head to show he understood, holding in his giddy relief. “Thank you, sir.”

“Thank me when it works,” Barnes said. “Where’s that partner of yours?”

“Trying to convince Dr. Thompkins to let Mrs. Fries be transferred to Arkham.”

The wince from Barnes was all Jim needed to see to know that the mother of his child had this entire department scared of her.

_ She’ll be so pleased _ .

Opening his door, Barnes ushered Jim out into the hall where they found Harvey leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his hat pulled low over his eyes.

“What is it?” Jim asked. “Did she refuse?”

“No, not exactly.” Harvey pointed towards the door where Lee stood next to Mrs. Fries’ wheelchair, glaring at anyone who stared at her for too long. “She said the only way Nora was going was if she was going with her.”

“She’s pregnant,” Jim protested. “She shouldn’t be in this kind of danger.”

“She said, and I quote, ‘if you’re willing to put this innocent woman in danger, I’m coming too’, end quote.” Harvey’s use of air quotes wasn’t enough to ease Jim’s panic, but he appreciated the effort.

He looked at Barnes who shook his head and disappeared into his office.

“I guess we’re all going then,” Jim said, buttoning his suit and pulling on its edge.

“Oh good, ‘cause I had no plan as to how to talk her out of it.” Harvey brushed a hand through his hair and re-settled his hat on his head. “Let’s go wrangle the crazies.”

Harvey swallowed at the look Jim threw him and opened his mouth.

“Don’t,” Jim said with a scowl and walked to the door.

_ I haven’t had contact with Oswald in almost a week. I need to know how he’s doing. _

Harvey caught up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, bud. The words kind of got away from me.”

Jim tilted his head in acknowledgment, but didn’t slow down. “Thanks.”

“Are we leaving now?” Lee asked as they approached, resting her hands on Mrs. Fries’ wheelchair handles. “She needs to be back in bed as soon as possible.”

Jim pointed towards the door and gave her a bow. “After you.”

Lee sniffed, but pushed Mrs. Fries out the door and to the waiting van, Jim and Harvey exchanging a glance before following after her.

The ride to Arkham was tense and quiet, each passenger wrapped up in their own head, and when Jim caught sight of the familiar building, his leg bounced with nervous energy. Harvey patted his knee in sympathy, but it was Lee’s sad look of pity that kept him seated instead of rushing the door. They unloaded Mrs. Fries and Jim and Harvey flanked the two women as they were escorted through the halls and into the medical wing. Lee spotted Barbara Kean on one of the beds and laughed.

“Of course, of course she’s here.” Lee shook her head and pointed to the bed farthest away from Barbara. “We’ll put Mrs. Fries over here.”

“The bed next to our other patient has already been set up,” the nurse argued.

“She’s not a patient,” Lee said with venom as she gestured to Barbara. “She’s an inmate.”

The nurse looked at her in disapproval. “Ma’am, this is above all else, a hospital. Everyone here is a patient.”

Lee sighed and nodded. “Of course. I’m sorry.” She pointed to her stomach. “Hormones.” She wheeled Mrs. Fries to the ready-made bed and the nurse helped her place the semi-conscious woman on the mattress.

While Lee settled Mrs. Fries into her new accommodations, Jim checked the room’s security and Harvey went over the schedule of nurse rotations. Keeping Mrs. Fries and Lee safe was supposed to be Jim’s highest priority, but his mind kept drifting to Oswald. 

“Harvey, I’m going to go check in with the doctor.” 

Before Harvey could protest, Jim slipped out the door and headed to the main hospital floor. He checked every gate and door for a sign of Oswald and finally found him in the large communal area, walking around the outside of a group of fellow inmates, chanting ‘duck duck duck’ and tapping each of them on the head. Jim wanted to cry out, scream his name and get his attention, but anything beyond watching could get him kicked off the premises.

“Quite extraordinary, don’t you think?”

Jim turned around to see a well dressed man with small rimmed glasses sitting on his face, holding a clipboard. “It’s Duck, Duck, Goose, not too hard to learn.”

“Yes, of course.” The man laughed. “I mean that they are playing a cooperative game at all. Many of my patients are suffering and angry, but with the right treatment, many can recover a sense of self and be returned to the world as model citizens.”

Jim furrowed his brow. “You must be Dr. Strange.”

“Yes, that’s me.” He held out his hand and Jim shook it, turning back to the group behind the bars as soon as he could.

Oswald still circled the group, repeating duck over and over while Jim’s heart broke again.

“You transferred Mrs. Fries here, correct?” Dr. Strange asked, looking at his clipboard. “How is she settling in?”

“She’s with our medical examiner, so I suspect she’s settling in just fine.” 

“Jim, there you are! Have you gotten around to checking the exits?” Harvey came running up, dragging him away from Dr. Strange and the group of patients playing their sad game. As soon as they were out of earshot, Harvey pushed Jim against a wall and glared at him. “What are you playing at?”

“I needed to see him,” Jim said, collapsing against the wall. “Fuck, Harvey. This place is going to kill him.”

“This place is going to kill us if you don’t get your head in the game and realize that we have a fucking job to do!” Harvey yelled the last few words and Jim pushed him away.

“I got it,” he said with a snarl. “What else do we need to do?”

“Go check on our men outside.” Harvey took off his hat and played with the brim. “There are still too many options for where he might arrive and I want us ready.”

“Fine.” Jim walked away and out the doors.

“I’m only helping you, Jimbo!” Harvey shouted after him.

Jim knew he was right, that focusing on Oswald instead of on their job would only get people killed, but it was hard to stay on task when Oswald’s blank face kept playing over and over in his mind. The quiet yard did little to calm his mind, but he took note of every place Mr. Fries might enter and directed his team to their positions. He turned to head back inside when his name rang out over the yard.

“Jim! Jim!”

Swallowing his panic, Jim waved at two men carrying Oswald between them while he struggled. “It’s alright, let him go.”

They exchanged glances, but did as he asked, releasing Oswald who ran over to him and stopped just short of falling into his arms. Longing to reach out and hold him close, Jim tucked his arms behind his back and forced his feet to move backwards.

“Jim, please, you need to get me out of here.” The fear in Oswald’s voice turned Jim’s blood cold.

“What is it?” Jim asked, keeping his voice low and steady. “What are they doing?”

“They’re torturing me,” Oswald said, his voice small and breathless and full of panic. “Mentally.” He added as Jim looked over his face and hands, searching for marks.

The two men flanking Oswald wrapped their arms around him and began pulling him away.

“Wait, I said to let him go!” Jim yelled, but they ignored him.

“Jim, please! They’re torturing me! The doctor, he’s insane!” Oswald kicked and struggled to get free, but the two men had a firm grip on him and dragged him away from the yard. 

Jim shivered with rage. The only thing keeping him from shooting the two men currently dragging Oswald, kicking and screaming, through a heavy steel door, was the presence of three officers behind him, no doubt watching the exchange with interest. Taking deep breaths, Jim re-centered his mind and turned around.

“What are you staring at?” He asked. “Get into position.”

He watched them scurry away, eager to take down Gotham’s current problem, and wished for that simplicity again. Looking back at the door Oswald had been dragged through, he clenched his fists and went back inside to find Harvey. 

Before he could find his wayward partner, an alarm sounded in the hallway and doors began swinging shut and locking. Running to investigate, Jim dodged armed guards and nurses running to appease their patients and swung around a corner in time to see the door to the infirmary slam shut. 

_ Fuck. Where is Harvey? _

An explosion rocked Jim off his feet and the temperature dropped. He banged on the door as he watched the room fill up with fog. 

“Jim, what’s going on?” 

Turning around in relief at the sound of Harvey’s voice, Jim pulled his gun and pointed it at the door to the infirmary. “He’s in there. He came through the fucking wall.”

Harvey pulled his weapon and looked inside the window. “He’s talking to Lee. What do you want to do?”

“Shoot out that door,” Jim said while shaking his head. “It’s reinforced and there’s no way we get through it in time to catch him.”

He punched the nearest wall. “Fuck!”

The intercom buzzed overhead and Dr. Strange’s voice came over the loudspeakers. “I apologize for the delay. It seems the break in has triggered some of our safety features. I should be able to get the doors open momentarily.”

Jim shook his head and leaned against the wall. “Lee in there with a madman and Oswald being tortured by a sadistic doctor and I can’t do a damn thing about either.”

A buzzer sounded and the doors unlocked. Harvey grabbed Jim and threw him back against the wall before he could go rushing into a possible trap, scanning the room with his gun drawn. No one in the room was moving and wind gusted through the hole blasted in the side of the wall.

“It’s all clear,” he said as he looked at Jim and tilted his head. “How do you know Oswald’s being tortured?”

“I met him in the yard. They were taking him somewhere and he was scared, like actually terrified.” Heading into the room, Jim looked around, noting Barbara still asleep on her bed, oblivious to what just happened. “I feel so fucking helpless.”

“Hey, he knew the consequences to his actions,” Harvey said, raising his eyebrows. “I know you’re going to go off again, but right now, I need your help finding this Freeze son of a bitch. You with me?”

Jim nodded, swallowing down his anger. “I can help find Lee. Where do you think he’ll take them?”

Harvey looked up and holstered his weapon as more officers entered the room. “See if he left anything behind, gentlemen.”

They spread out, each one stopping for a minute to look at Barbara’s still and sleeping form, before canvassing the room.

“He wants to freeze his wife, so he’s going to need facilities to do that.” Grabbing Jim’s arm, Harvey dragged him out of the room while the men did their sweeps. “Where might have the kind of equipment he’d need?”

Jim stared at the ceiling. “We confiscated most of it from the warehouses. The only place left would be-” He looked at Harvey.

“His house.” They said at the same time.

Jim patted Harvey on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Harvey pushed people out of the way and even though Jim spotted Dr. Strange walking down a secluded hallway, he kept going, forcing his mind away from whatever Oswald might be going through.

_ He’s tough. He’ll be okay until I can get back. _

Telling himself that Oswald didn’t need his protection, that Lee and Mrs. Fries were in much more danger, Jim hopped into the car with Harvey and they sped towards the Fries’ neighborhood.

The streets were quiet and eerily still as Harvey pulled into the short driveway and parked the car. Lights flickered in the window, but Jim couldn’t see anybody moving around.

“We should wait for backup.” Harvey crouched by the car and motioned Jim back. “You’re going to get yourself shot if you keep rushing into danger like this.”

“It’s what I do.” Giving Harvey a wicked smile, Jim ran for the front door, hearing muttered curses behind him as Harvey followed. 

The house was freezing, the air hitting Jim’s lungs like needles. Jim led the way, slowly clearing each room even as his instincts told him that the basement was the target. Reaching the stairs to the basement, Jim could feel the cold seep into his skin and sting his throat. Throwing the door open, he descended with Harvey right behind him. The cold was worse the farther down they went and Jim could see his breath forming in the space in front of him. 

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he stood in horror at the sight of Mrs. Fries on the table, dead and cracking to pieces like ice fragments in the Arctic Ocean. Beyond her stood her husband, completely frozen and leaning against the wall. To the right and almost hidden from his, Lee lay sprawled on the floor, her entire lower half encased in ice while her eyes flickered, her body fighting to stay awake.

“Lee!” Jim raced to her side, searching the room for anything to break the ice around her. 

Her eyes flew open and she reached out, a small scream escaping her lips as she realized she couldn’t move. “Jim, help.”

Hearing those words from Lee, an echo of Oswald’s own helpless plea, and Jim’s resolve broke. His fists flew into the chunk of ice keeping her hostage, not caring about the blood smearing across the clear surface. Harvey came up behind him and pulled him back, throwing him towards the wall.

“Jim, fuck!” Carrying a baseball bat over his shoulder, Harvey held Jim down until he stopped fighting. “Get a hold of yourself!”

“She needs help,” Jim said, pointing to Lee and slumping against the wall. 

Harvey nodded and left Jim holding his bloodied knuckles. “Hold tight, Dr. Tompkins.” He swung the bat into the block of ice around her legs and torso and the ice shattered around her, cutting into her skin. 

Two more swings and entire block gave way and Lee scrambled on her hands and knees to get away from her demolished prison. The struggle must have used the last of her strength and she collapsed in a heap in the middle of the floor. Jim rushed over and swept her up into his arms, hauling her out of the basement and away from the macabre display. Harvey wrapped a blanket around her as the ambulance pulled into the driveway, followed by three police cruisers and a fire truck. Placing Lee in the ambulance, Jim stepped back and let the medics do their work, his mind and body shutting down from the roller coaster of events. He watched with dead eyes as the doors to the ambulance were slammed shut and it drove off into the darkness.

“She’s safe, man,” Harvey said, coming up and putting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s tough.”

_ Tough, like Oswald. Please, let him be okay. _

“She’s tough, right.” Pulling a hand across his eyes, Jim took a deep breath. “I’m hoping the kid is just as tough.”

Harvey winced and nodded. “Man, why didn’t you go with them? At least go get your hands looked at?”

“What was I going to do?” Jim asked, his voice cracking on the last word. “I was supposed to be in that room, protecting her and our kid, and I wasn’t. I was-” He couldn’t make the words come out. 

His heart felt split in two. One half bleeding for Lee and their baby together and the other half raging at Oswald’s absence.

“Why did he have to surrender?” Pressing a hand to his forehead, Jim closed his eyes and counted the beats of his heart, the urge to punch and kick and demolish building inside of him.

Harvey didn’t answer and Jim could guess why he kept his silence. Harvey would much rather have Jim here beside him and Oswald in Arkham then have Jim under investigation for murder, or worse sent to Blackgate.

“Go home, man. Or go to the hospital.” Harvey handed him the keys to his car. “I’ll have someone drop me at your place to pick it up later.”

Jim took the keys. “Thanks, Harv.”

“Don’t thank me yet. My next bit of advice?” Harvey leaned in close. “Forget about him. There’s nothing to be done now and you’ll wear yourself into a grave at this rate. Go home, be miserable till you puke, then come back to work tomorrow and live your fucking life.”

“Fuck you,” Jim said, baling up his fists. “I can’t just shut down. I’m not like you.”

Harvey glared and pushed him towards the car. “Go away before I hit you.”

Jim turned and jumped in the car, starting the engine and rolling away from the crime scene, his hands shaking and his head spinning. He didn’t remember the drive home, his mind on autopilot enough to get him safely to his front door. They key slipped against the lock and he couldn’t see through the mess of tears pouring down his face. 

_ Fuck you, Harvey. Fuck you. _

He finally entered his apartment and threw his badge and gun on the coffee table, slipping off his shoes as he headed to the kitchen. His fridge held a week’s worth of uneaten leftovers, but he walked right past it and opened his liquor cabinet. Grabbing the first bottle he saw, he walked back and slumped onto the couch. Its lumpy cushion with its jutting springs had been his bed since Oswald left. Looking at his bed made him queasy.

_ How am I just supposed to fucking forget him? I couldn’t even when I desperately wanted to.  _

He drank his alcohol, some kind of whiskey from the taste, and watched the sky outside grow darker and drowned in his sorrow. He couldn’t break Oswald out of Arkham, couldn’t help Lee in the hospital, and now even Harvey wanted nothing to do with him. Looking down at the bottle in his hands, he swirled the amber contents and wondered how much it would take to forget everything about Oswald.

_ About how he kissed and smelled and smiled and the way he pinched his lips together when he wanted to say something, but didn’t want to upset me. _

A knock on his window broke him out of his pitying spiral and Jim looked up to see Selina waving at him from her perch next to his window. He waved her in, sure she already had his window unlocked, and she swung into the room with a large cloth bag strapped to her back.

“Thanks, Jim,” she said, setting the bag down and stretching. “Haven’t actually done that in a while.”

“What do you want?” Jim took a swig of his whiskey and held it out to her.

“You’re not supposed to offer alcohol to a minor when you’re a cop, Detective Gordon.” Selina wiped her hands on her pants and slipped off her jacket. “What’s with you?”

Jim laughed and waved a hand around the room. “Where do I fucking start?” He hiccuped and laughed again.

“Man, you’re toasted.” Selina wrinkled her nose. “Birdy in a cage is doing a number on ya, huh?”

Tilting his bottle back, he took another drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m being miserable. So that somehow, tomorrow, I can wake up and do my fucking job. What a joke.”

Selina frowned and opened her bag, pulling out clothes and shoes and a box full of ties, setting the items on the couch next to Jim. He looked over, puzzled at the assortment of men’s wear.

“You got something to tell me?”

“No, not that you’re in any state to hear anything right now.” Pulling a garment bag out and hanging it on the bedroom door, she unzipped it and stepped back, admiring her work. “I didn’t sew it, but I’ve got smashing taste.”

Standing and walking to door, Jim stared at the suit hanging inside the bag. Faint blue pinstripes ran through the fabric, making it look sophisticated and tough, yet the cut flowed in elegant lines and Jim could see himself wearing it as he made small talk at those pointless Gotham parties.

“What’s this?”

“A gift,” Selina said. “Penguin commissioned it before he got nabbed and I figured I got paid for the delivery, might as well follow through.”

“I can’t accept this.” Drunk and far too melancholy, Jim reached out and ran a hand down the sleek material. “I can’t.”

Selina rolled her eyes and punched him in the arm. “You’ve got major issues, dude. Guess that’s why you and the Penguin actually make sense.” She picked up the rest of the clothes and dragged them into the bedroom. “Try things on, I need to take pictures.”

“Wait, why?” His head spun as he tried to follow her through his apartment.

“Gotta prove I made the delivery,” she said with a shrug. “A girl’s got a rep to maintain.”

Standing in the middle of his bedroom, with his shirt halfway off, Jim’s mind registered Selina’s sentence and he stared at her in shock.

“What?” She rubbed at her face. “Did I get dirt somewhere?”

“You can sneak in and out of Arkham, can’t you?” Pulling his shirt back down, Jim grabbed her by the shoulders. “Could you sneak something in for me?”

“Manhandling, man!” She squirmed in his arms and he released her, taking a step back as his eyes bored into her skull.

“Yeah, I can sneak in and out and if it’s small, I can sneak something in, for a price.”

“I’ll try on the suit,” Jim offered, stretching his face into the semblance of a smile.

Selina sighed and shook her head, holding out her hand and rubbing her thumb against her index finger. “You’re hopeless, Gordon. At least offer money.”

“Twenty dollars and I’ll try on the suit.” Jim took the bag off the door and draped it over his arm. “I need to get a weapon to Oswald, while he still has the ability to fight back.”

Selina nodded and waved him back into the bedroom. “Go, suit, now. I’ll get The Penguin his damn knife.”

“How did you-”

“I’m not a dummy,” Selina said and closed the door in his face. “Try the suit with the dark blue tie and waistcoat!” 

Hope settled in Jim’s heart, fighting through his whiskey-soaked brain and tucking itself into a small corner in his chest. Struggling out of his clothes, Jim slipped the suit off its hanger and laid it out on the bed. The material felt heavier than he expected and when he examined it closer, he found small metal disks sewn into overlapping panels over his heart.

_ That man will be the death of me. _

He dressed as quickly as he could, still awake enough to know that leaving Selina in his apartment by herself was asking for trouble. The tie slipped between his clumsy fingers so he just draped it around his neck and checked the whole ensemble in the mirror. It looked good, like something he’d pick out for himself, but with more class than he normally allowed. Walking out to the living room, he heard a low whistle and turned in a slow circle while she snapped pictures. 

“Awesome, I could get a bonus with this,” she said, grinning as Jim rolled his eyes.

He walked to his desk and opened the top drawer, pulling out Oswald’s favorite knife and handing it to her, along with twenty dollars from his wallet. “Delivered to him and only him, right?”

She nodded and took the knife, slipping it into her boot. “He’ll be alright. He’s like one of those nuclear bomb cockroaches. He’s going to survive.” She wrinkled her nose. “Can’t believe there’s a part of me that misses that freak.”

Jim stalked across the room until he was nose to nose with her. “Don’t call him that.”

Selina shrugged and waited a few seconds before she stepped back and over to the window. Jim thought she looked like a cat that didn’t want to show it was scared. “We’re all freaks, Jim. It’s what makes us a part of Gotham.”

She darted out the window and up the drainpipe of his apartment building, disappearing into the night while Jim stood by the window, wearing a suit with built in plate mail. 

_ Freaks. Sure. _

He stripped out of the suit after closing his window and tucked it back into its garment bag. Standing and looking at his new attire, Jim could admire her manipulative tactics. She’d distracted him so thoroughly, he didn’t notice when he’d stopped fighting against the gift. 

_ Sneaky Cat. _


	11. How Can I Help You Say Goodbye?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim finds a cause with Bruce Wayne and a chance to help at a time when he feels helpless. Lee is still in the hospital, Harvey is anxious, and Alfred gets beat up too often for a butler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got three more weeks until I head to London (where I will be skipping a few Wednesday's because I'm not posting while I'm on vacation), but here is a new chapter with our boys! Thanks for sticking with this story and reading!
> 
> A nice big "Thank you" to [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) for helping with editing and pushing me to keep going (you know I adore you)
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

 

 

 

Bracing himself against the dashboard of Harvey’s car as they splashed through potholes, Jim sipped on his coffee and stared out the window at the passing brick walls. Three days had passed since Selina had dropped off his new clothes and he hadn’t heard a word about whether or not Oswald had received his gift. The mood around the station swung between frantic and depressed while everyone waited to hear about Lee and the baby. With the clashing moods, Harvey had jumped at a chance to help Jim track down Selina.

“Why do you need to see her again?” Harvey asked, munching out of a bag of corn chips while he drove through the back alleys of Gotham.

“You don’t want to know, remember?” Jim sighed and took another drink. “You know, when I started this job, you were the one saying shit like that.”

“I knew you wouldn’t last if you didn’t toughen up,” Harvey said with a laugh. “Now you’re testing my limits with this Penguin shit.”

“I haven’t begun to reach your limits, Harv,” Jim said, giving his partner an exasperated look. “I haven’t even found the edge of them.”

Harvey shrugged in obvious agreement and pointed to a low-hanging fire escape. “You know she’ll hit the roofs if she can.”

Nodding and slipping his coffee into the cup holder, Jim hopped out of the car and climbed the fire escape. Across the rooftops, he could see a small figure running and dodging around chimneys. He walked to the edge of the roof and looked down and then across to the next building with resignation.

_Fuck._

Watching Selina jump and slide across the rooftops of Gotham, Jim shook his head at her fearlessness. Climbing back down the fire escape, he found Harvey on the phone, saying his goodbyes with a worried wrinkle between his eyes.

“What’s up?” Jim asked as Harvey hung up and started the car.

“We have a situation. Alfred Pennyworth just called from the hospital and says Bruce is missing.”

Fear slid into Jim’s veins as they pulled out into the street. “Again? The kid got a sign on his back that says ‘please kidnap me’?”

“Don’t know. The butler seemed to be in a bit of a snit.”

“Did he say what happened?”

“He didn’t elaborate, just said to get to him as fast as we could,” Harvey gave Jim a look of disbelief. “I don’t think he wanted to tell me what really went down.”

Jim sighed and shook his head. “Then step on it.”

Harvey swerved around a utility van and sped toward Gotham General.

 

*******

 

Jim hated hospitals since he was a kid and the battle for Gotham with Maroni and Falcone only cemented his hatred. Hospitals reminded him of his father’s accident, his mother’s listless life, and the first time he'd pictured Oswald dead. He had no happy memories of hospitals and the fact that Lee rested in one of the recovery rooms only made him sweat.

Harvey’s disapproving stare ate at Jim’s conscience and he sighed.

"I'll check on Lee before we leave," Jim told him with a strained smile.

"Good, I've seen her more than you and I’m running out of excuses as to why you haven’t shown up." Patting Jim on the shoulder, Harvey held the door open and ushered Jim into Alfred's room.

“Took you long enough,” Alfred said, sitting up on his bed with visible effort and waving them forward.

"You know, for a butler, you do seem to get beaten up a lot,” Harvey said, patting the bed with his notebook.

“What happened?” Jim asked, wanting to find Bruce as quickly as possible and get back to hunting Selina down.

Alfred looked sheepish. “We got his name, Jim. The name of the man that killed Bruce’s parents.” He swallowed. “Matches Malone.”

Harvey snorted. “Dude, we’re the cops.” He pointed at Jim and back at himself. “Thank you for sharing with us. When were you going to tell us?”

Jim sighed and looked out the door, relieved that Bruce hadn’t been kidnapped, but still fearing for his life.

_If he’s looking for Malone on his own, he’s in more trouble than I thought._

“I haven’t got time to explain now,” Alfred said, trying to sit up further in his bed and failing. “We got a good solid lead from the same place that I got seven bells knocked out of me.” He took a breath, wincing at the pain. “Now Bruce, he won’t answer his phone. So, my guess is that he’s gone after this Malone. Solo.”

“Going after him?” Jim asked, tilting his head as dread built in his chest. “To do what exactly?”

“What can he do? He’s a kid,” Harvey said with a look at Jim.

“Only reason to go alone,” Alfred said, panic in his voice. “He’s gonna kill the man.”

Jim turned away from the bed as Alfred kept talking.

“I mean, I told him not to. I said, you’re too young for killing. Said I’d do it for him.”

Harvey groaned. “Again, we’re the cops. Do not tell us stuff like this.”

“You’ve got to understand, both of ya,” Alfred said, the concern in his eyes so painful that Jim could barely look at him. “This is not a game.”

Jim looked down at Alfred, the man clinging to his calm like a drowning man to a floating buoy, and nodded. “I understand. Tell me where he is.”

“Celestial Gardens, supposed to see someone named Jeri.” Alfred placed his head back on his pillow. “That’s all I remember before I blacked out.”

Harvey looked between the both of them and shook his head. “You’re both hopeless.”

“I got it, thanks.” Jim gave Alfred a small smile and waved as he walked out of the room. “Harvey, go see Lee and tell her that I can’t come visit right now, but I will later.”

“Dude, you promised.” Harvey dragged him down the hall and into an empty room. “I know it’s all majorly fucked up, but you’re not helping the situation by being an asshole.”

“I don’t know what to do, Harv.” Jim ran a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to scream. “She’s either going to lose the baby or not. Oswald is still in Arkham with that wacko doctor doing who knows what to him. I can’t do anything about either of those situations.” He poked at Harvey’s chest. “I can go save Bruce Wayne.”

He didn’t feel good about walking away, but Jim couldn’t handle the smell or the rushing nurses or the despair that filled every hallway as people, young and old, fought for their lives.

_I’m useless, so fucking useless. Get me out of here._

Breathing deep as he pushed open the hospital doors, Jim leaned over and put his head between his knees, fighting the weight of his panic like an anvil settling on his chest. The solid weight of Harvey’s hand on his shoulder anchored him and Jim straightened, giving his partner a small smile.

“I’m sorry.” Jim closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “I’ll see her as soon as we find Bruce, I promise.”

“Dude, I get it.” Harvey clapped him on the back and headed back inside. “Think how she’s feeling, though. If it’s hard for you, it’s gotta be killing her.”

Jim nodded and jumped into Harvey’s car. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

 

*********

 

Flashing his badge was all it took to get him past the doorman and into the club. Finding Bruce took a bit more effort, but Jim caught a flash of his expensive coat as he searched the roaring crowd. He pushed against the sea of dancers and grabbed Bruce before he could make it to the door.

“Bruce, listen to me, I know what you’re doing,” Jim said, keeping a hand on Bruce’s shoulder while he tried to get him to listen. “Alfred told me everything.”

“He shouldn’t have done that.” Bruce didn’t raise his voice, but anger radiated out of him, palpable as dust in Jim’s mouth.

“I understand how you feel.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew they were a lie.

“No, you don’t!” Bruce glared at him.

“You’re right, I don’t. At least, not in the same way.” He leaned down and looked into Bruce’s eyes. “I know what it feels like to feel helpless, though, like you can’t do anything. You couldn’t stop your parents from getting killed any more than I could stop Lee from getting frozen so bad that our kid might not make it.”

Bruce stopped glaring at him, instead looking down at the dirty club floor. “I didn’t know she was still in the hospital.”

“She is, a few floors above where you left Alfred wondering if he’d ever see you again.” Jim’s voice grew soft as he tried to reason with him. “Let me help you, alright? I’m pretty good at this.”

Bruce shook his head. “What if I have to do this on my own?”

“I don’t want to live in a world that makes a kid have to go face a murderer by himself, you understand?” Jim leaned in and locked eyes with Bruce. “I’ve seen what isolation can do to a man and I don’t want that for you.”

Giving him a strange look, Bruce nodded. “I have an address. Just, promise me I can confront him without you trying to arrest him?”

“I’ll do my best. I won’t let you get hurt,” Jim said, the stern fear back in his voice. “But I’ll follow your lead, alright?”

“You’ve changed, Detective,” Bruce said, turning and walking back towards the door. “I like it.”

Jim snorted and followed him out to his waiting car.

 

*******

 

Matches Malone lived in a very gloomy side of town in a small one bedroom apartment. Jim shivered as he followed Bruce up the rickety stairs, glad to be along to help him, but his mind tormented him with images of Oswald winding up in a place like this, all alone and friendless.

_I wouldn’t let that happen._

_What if something happened to me though?_

_Who would Oswald turn to?_

“Detective, are you alright?” Bruce’s voice broke through Jim’s inner turmoil.

“Yeah, yeah. This place is a dump.” Jim pointed to the water dripping down the walls. “Just wondering how far a person has to fall to wind up in a place like this.”

Bruce nodded and continued down the hallway. Lights flickered, dust dancing in the dim yellow beams, and Jim heard a child crying from the floor above him. Bruce stopped at a door on the left, the exterior just as sad as all the other doors they’d passed.

“This it?” Jim asked, flanking the door and drawing his gun.

“Yes.” Bruce turned to him. “I don’t want you to scare him. I’ll go in alone and call if I need help, alright?”

“I’ll break this door down if I have to,” Jim said, putting his gun away and backing up until he could hide behind the corner. “You call as soon as you need help.”

“Thank you, detective. I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“Easy or not, you need this and I’m not going to stop you.” He gave Bruce a small smile. “Someone’s been teaching me to let go a little.”

Bruce smiled back, but the expression faded as he took a breath and knocked on the door. Jim watched from his hideout, sizing up the man who answered the door. He felt a little relief at the frail looking figure, an easy take down if he needed to rescue Bruce. Once they went inside, he posted himself by the door and listened for any signs of a fight.

_Lurking in the shadows while a young boy faces his parent’s killer. How brave._

Jim shook his head and pressed his lips together. A year, or even two months ago, he wouldn’t have let Bruce do anything so dangerous. Oswald’s presence in his life, the lengths he went to avenge his mother, left an indelible mark on Jim. He could sense the tension in Bruce and would rather be outside this door than halfway across town and worrying.

_Out in the free world, saving Bruce Wayne while Oswald is stuck in that hellhole. You’re pathetic._

His mind kept turning back to Oswald, the way he’d tried to cling to him outside of Arkham, and Jim let the pain of the encounter wash over him as he waited. There was no denying that Oswald was suffering and if he hadn’t shown such an attachment to him, maybe Barnes would have let him visit Arkham. As it stood, his captain kept a close eye on the visitor logs at Arkham and he couldn’t even sneak in to see him.

_I hope Cat got in, was able to give him the knife, or some form of protection._

A neighboring door opened and Jim waved at the confused woman as she locked up and headed down the hallway. She looked old enough to be his mother, her hair caught up in a braid around her head and a long flowing dress peeking out from under a heavy jacket. She didn’t ask questions and Jim breathed a sigh of relief. In a building like this, not asking questions kept you alive. Her standoffish demeanor reminded him of the buildings Galavan had ordered destroyed and the lives he’d ruined for his plan.

_I need to see what’s being done to rebuild. Maybe Bruce will help with that, give him something to focus on once this is all taken care of._

He put his ear to the door and heard the low hum of voices, but he couldn’t make out any of the words.

He itched to break down the door, handcuff the killer and drag him into the police station like a talisman, a statement that Jim Gordon always kept his promises. He stayed still, the urge to prove himself overridden by his newfound sense of justice. He was braced for anything, even Bruce shooting and killing the man inside. He hadn’t searched the boy’s pockets for a reason and he attributed his actions to Oswald’s influence, an acknowledgment that sometimes a life for a life was the only way to find peace.

The door handle moved and Jim stepped back, carefully drawing his gun and aiming it at the opening door. Bruce stepped out with a look of complete dejection and Jim’s worry grew.

“What happened?” He asked, drawing Bruce closer and away from the open door.

“I had the gun, I could have killed him,” Bruce said with a shudder. “He’s just a man, though, a sad, lonely man who killed them for money, nothing more.”

“I’m sorry, Bruce. I wish I had a monster for you to fight.” Jim reached out and brought him into a hug. “Evil isn’t so black and white as we want.”

The ring of a gunshot through the building startled them both. Jim looked in the apartment and found Matches Malone sitting at a table, a gun hanging from his hand and a bullet through his skull. Bruce peeked in after him and Jim shoved him back.

“I left him the gun.” Bruce looked pale and frightened. “I don’t know why.”

“Maybe this is what you wanted to happen, his last hit.” Jim put his gun away and pulled out his phone. “I’m going to call it in. Do you want to be here or somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else.” Bruce took one more look at the dead man in the room and then turned and walked down the hall.

Jim dialed up dispatch and reported the incident, careful to leave Bruce’s name out of it. As soon as they verified that a squad was on its way, Jim closed the apartment door and followed Bruce outside.

“Did you want a ride back to the hospital?” Jim asked, sitting next to Bruce on the steps.

“Yes, please.” Bruce stared down at his hands, letting the silence stretch between them before he spoke again. “I almost shot him. I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t.” Jim placed an arm around him. “Focus on that. Also, focus on how much trouble you’re in once Alfred finds out you’re okay.”

“He’ll understand.”

“He didn’t seem to be in an understanding mood when I left him,” Jim countered, pleased to see a sheepish smile on Bruce’s face. “Can you do me a favor?”

“What do you need?”

“If you see Selina, tell her I’ve been looking for her.” Jim kept his voice light. “She ran an errand for me and I need to know whether she was successful or not.”

“I can do that,” Bruce said, standing and holding out his hand. “Thank you, Jim.”

“You’re welcome.” Jim shook his hand and smiled. “Please never ask me to do that again.”

Bruce smiled back, but didn’t answer. Turning around, he walked to the street and stood by the passenger door of Harvey’s car. Jim shook his head and joined him, unlocking the door and letting him in as he moved to the driver’s side. Bruce stared out the window while Jim pulled out into the street.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Malone killed them for money, that means someone else paid him for the hit.” Bruce tapped on the window. “I need to find out who.”

Jim sighed and ran a hand through his hair, one hand still on the steering wheel. “The Waynes are a powerful family and that kind of power comes with enemies. I don’t know if finding the source will be possible.”

“I have to try,” Bruce said, his voice hard in the car’s small space.

“Going further down this road, you have to know you’re after justice, Bruce.” Jim pulled at his arm until Bruce faced him. “If you’re after revenge, it’s going to get very dark, very quickly.”

Bruce nodded. “I still want justice for my parents, Jim.”

“Alright, then I’ll keep searching as well. Pooling our resources might help us both.”

“Work together?” Bruce tilted his head as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him.

Jim nodded. “I know the department frowns on sharing reports with civilians, but I’ll see what I can scrounge up and bring over.”

Bruce’s face lit up. “I would appreciate it, Jim.”

“I would appreciate it if you keep me in the loop and try not to take on everything by yourself.” Jim’s look was full of admonishment and Bruce ducked his head.

“No one but Alfred and Selina even know what I’m doing.”

“So, one more person, or two, wouldn’t hurt,” Jim said, wondering if Oswald would have any contacts that would help in the search for Malone’s benefactors.

“Two?”

“Yeah, I have a source that might be able to help us, if you’re alright with that.” Jim didn’t want to alienate him against the idea of Oswald helping.

“Who is it?”

“Not sure I should say, but I trust him, alright?”

Bruce stared at him with a puzzled look, but nodded. “Alright.”

They reached the hospital and Jim parked in the visitor’s lot.

“Thank you for the ride,” Bruce said, tugging on his jacket while he followed Jim into the building.

“It’s fine, I need to visit Lee anyway,” Jim said, leading the way back to Alfred’s room. “I’m going to drop you with Alfred and then take off before he starts asking questions.”

Bruce groaned. “Traitor.”

Smiling as the entered Alfred’s room, Jim could see the relief on the butler’s face as they walked in.

“What’s he done now, officer?” Alfred asked, giving Bruce a scolding look.

“Kept himself busy while you were laid up,” Jim answered. “He can fill you in.”

Waving at both of them, Jim walked out of the room, a small smile on his face at the chastising tone from Alfred and Bruce’s demure answers.

_They’ll be alright._

He looked at the exit signs, guilt building in his chest at the desire to run out of the building and not look back. He steeled his nerve and walked to the elevator, pushing the up button and waiting for the doors to open.

_She won’t want to see you._

_Harvey said she’d been asking for me._

_She’ll never forgive you for abandoning her._

His mind swirled with self-loathing as he rode the elevator up and walked to the nurses station.

“Lee Tompkins’ room, please.” Jim pulled out his badge when the nurse threw him a skeptical look.

Her expression changed to sympathy. “Room 304, just down that hall.”

The hallway looked dark and depressing and he could feel the fear building with each step, but he marched to the door and looked in. Lee sat still on the bed, machines beeping around her as she slept. She looked small in the big bed, her face in shadow as sunlight filtered into the room.

_She’s sleeping, you should come back._

_Coward._

Jim entered the room and settled into the chair beside her bed, looking at her stomach where most of the equipment seemed attached. Reaching out a hand, he took hers and held it as she slept, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

 

*******

 

“Jim?”

His eyes popped open and he looked over to see Lee staring at him in confusion.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said, wiping at his mouth. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“You look like you needed it,” Lee said with a small smile. “I guess it’s too much to ask for you to take care of yourself.”

“Hey, don’t worry about me.” He smiled back, even as his heart clenched. “How are you doing?”

She moved a hand down to her stomach. “I’ve been told I’ll be fine. They keep doing more and more tests on the baby, though.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim said, swallowing hard. “I should have been-”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said with a soft voice. “I don’t blame you, Jim.”

“I blame me.” He kept his head down while he talked. “If I’d been guarding you instead of running off on my own agenda.”

Her hand rested in his hair. “Jim, whatever you were doing, it wouldn’t have changed a thing. Maybe you would have been killed by that man. No one was expecting him to burst through the wall, you know.”

He let her hand brush through his hair, soothing his racing mind. He wanted to believe her, wanted to believe that searching for Oswald had saved his life and that he shouldn’t blame himself for her current condition. Looking over at the rise and fall of her stomach, the beeping of the machines around her, he only felt more shame flood through him.

“I should go,” he said, wanting to get out of the room as quick as possible. “I’m sure you’re supposed to be resting.”

“That’s all they let me do,” Lee said with a frown, her hand moving to play with a loose thread in her blanket. “You don’t have to go.”

Jim stood up and leaned down, kissing her forehead. “I am sorry, Lee.”

“Jim, stop blaming yourself.” She grabbed his chin. “Go get some rest. I don’t like the look of those circles under your eyes.” Her eyes narrowed as she took in his slouched posture. “This isn’t just about me, is it?”

“What?”

“You’re worried about him too, in Arkham.” Her eyes widened. “You were looking for him when Fries broke in.”

Jim couldn’t speak, too many emotions rushing through him to figure out how to respond. She seemed to take his silence for an answer.

“I know I should be mad, Jim,” she said, settling back on her pillows. “I don’t have the energy for it, though.”

Jim sat back down on his chair, the crushing weight of his guilt pressing on his chest. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly while Lee watched, her face growing concerned.

“Jim, breathe.” She moved to hit her button to call the nurse, but he grabbed her hand.

“It’ll pass.”

“You’re having a panic attack,” she said, gripping his hand. “How long have these been happening?” With her doctor tone in full effect, he couldn’t lie.

“Since Oswald went to Arkham.” Saying his name out loud brought another attack and he bowed over, putting his head between his knees.

“Geez, Jim. Okay, breathe. Stand up and walk around if you can. Count your footsteps.”

Standing up, he paced around her bed, steadily breathing as he fought for control over his body. Following Lee’s advice, he walked and counted and slowed his breathing until he could speak again.

“They aren’t all bad like that,” he said, sitting back down and keeping his eyes on the floor.

“Can you go visit him, make sure he’s alright?” Her concerned voice brought more shame.

_She’s in a hospital bed and worried about me._

He looked up at Lee and laughed, a hollow, joyless sound. “Captain Barnes said I had no reason to visit him and if I tried, he’d see it as a reason to reopen the Galavan case.”

“Asshole, “ Lee said with a snort. She placed a hand on Jim’s head. “I can’t say I really like the guy, but if he’s this important to you, you need to sneak in there or something. Find a way, like you always do.”

Taking her hand in his own, Jim nodded and placed a kiss to her knuckles. “You don’t deserve to be stuck here.”

“I’m aware,” she said with a smile. “Now go. Your self-pity is upsetting the baby.”

Jim smiled and bent down, kissing the top of her belly. “Get better little one.”

Lee smiled, tears in her eyes. “Come visit once you’ve had some more sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nodding one final time, he left the room and walked in a daze to the elevator.

_She doesn’t hate me._

Running a hand through his hair, Jim leaned back against the elevator wall and closed his eyes as relief spread through him. Lee didn’t hate him and he was back behind Bruce’s walls and even with Oswald behind the walls of Arkham, he could think clearly again.

_If Selina knows a way in, maybe she can get me in to see him._

The logistics behind sneaking a full grown man into the building would be tricky, but he trusted her to figure a way and get him into Arkham and to Oswald.

A taxi took him back to the station and he collected his things as he watched Harvey and Barnes talk in the captain’s office. Whatever they were discussing, it was enough to have Barnes pacing the floor. Jim sighed and decided his curiosity could wait until morning, finding Ed in his lab and asking him to let Harvey know he’d gone home. Ed nodded, distracted by something on his microscope slide, and Jim patted his shoulder before leaving the building.

His landlord frowned at him as he passed, but Jim only waved and kept walking, unwilling to trade words with the cantankerous caretaker. Jim looked down at his phone as it buzzed, a message from Harvey coming through as he reached his floor. A shuffling sound caught his attention and he looked up to see Oswald sitting in front of his door, covered in feathers and something sticky, and smiling at him like Jim had risen from the dead. Phone forgotten, Jim rushed forward, pulling Oswald to his feet while he fumbled for his key.

“What are you doing here? What happened? How did you escape?” Getting his door open at last, Jim pushed Oswald through it, slamming and locking it as he turned around. “Why are you covered in feathers?”

“I took the bus,” Oswald said in a rush. “I didn’t escape. They let me go. Butch and Tabitha covered me in feathers as payback.” He smiled as he answered the last question. “It’s so good to see you, Jim.”

Jim stared in shock, unsure how to process the new information. Remembering his phone, he opened up the message from Harvey.

**They let the bird out, apparently he’s been cured.**

Looking from the message and then back at Oswald, Jim wondered what they meant by ‘cured’.

“I thought maybe you’d let me take a shower.” Oswald gestured to his clothing. “They really did a number on my suit.” He laughed and brushed at some of the stray feathers. “I deserved it, really.”

“You deserved it?” Jim shook his head, sure that he misheard.

“I’ve done so many awful things, Jim.” Oswald’s eyes filled with tears. “You really shouldn’t be so nice, but I thought maybe you’d be alright with me cleaning up. I won’t take long.”

Jim walked to Oswald and drew him into a hug. “You can take as long as you like. You’re not leaving here until I figure out what’s happened.”

“I’ve been cured, Jim,” Oswald said, as if the answer were obvious. “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. I’ve learned, hurting people is wrong.”

Staring at Oswald’s open and peaceful face, Jim could only nod in response. “Okay. I get it. Um, you know where the bathroom is.” He still pointed to the open door. “I’ll find you some clothes to wear.”

“Thank you, Jim.” Oswald pressed a hand to Jim’s arm. “You’ve always been so wonderful.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jim guided him into the bathroom and closed the door, leaning against it and taking a deep breath.

Pulling his phone back out, Jim dialed Harvey’s number.

“Jim, are you home yet?”

“Yeah, I’m home. I’ve got a visitor too.”

“Damn, I was hoping to catch you before that. Um, they let Oswald out.”

“Yeah, I see that.” Jim walked to the kitchen and started the tea kettle, pulling out Oswald’s favorite blend. “What the hell happened?”

“That Dr. Strange fellow, he’s cracker jack crazy is what’s happened.” Harvey’s frustration bled into his voice. “Said that he’d cured Cobblepot of all his violent tendencies and he wasn’t a danger to society anymore so they let him go.”

“Did he say how he cured him?”

“He says telling us would break patient doctor confidentiality.” Harvey snorted. “Which is a load of cow shit, but Barnes seemed to buy it.”

Jim sighed and watched the steam rise out of the kettle. “I’m keeping him here then. He showed up covered in tar and feathers and he seemed to accept it as punishment or something.”

“Fuck. Never thought I’d see a neutered Penguin.”

“He’s not-” Jim stopped and took a breath. “He’s not himself, it’s like he’s brainwashed. This isn’t a good thing, Harvey.”

“Alright, alright.” Harvey muttered something else under his breath, but Jim couldn’t make it out. “Keep him there. I’ll see if I can get anything else out of Dr. Strange.”

‘Thanks, Harvey.”

“Hey, Lee says you came to visit, so I figure I owe you.”

Jim humphed and hung up the phone, staring at it until the kettle behind him whistled. Pouring hot water over the tea strainer, he pondered the implications of Harvey and Lee.

_He’s over there quite a bit. At first I thought it was due to my absence. Maybe he’s crushing on her._

The sound of the shower turning off pushed Jim out of his musings and he returned to fixing Oswald’s tea, adding honey and swirling the strainer as the water changed to a deep reddish brown. There was something soothing about preparing the hot beverage in just the way Oswald had taught him.

“Jim, did you say you had clothes?” Oswald’s head peeked out of the bathroom. “I don’t mind putting my old things on, of course, I was just wondering.”

“I am throwing those away.” Jim called out from the kitchen. “Hold on. Let me grab something.”

Running into his bedroom, he gathered up the t-shirt and sweatpants from Oswald’s first visit to his place and brought them to the bathroom. Oswald gave him a wide smile.

“Thank you so much, Jim.”

“Oswald, you know you’re welcome here.” Jim took his hand and squeezed. “Get dressed. I’ve got tea in the kitchen for you.”

Nodding quickly, Oswald stepped back into the bathroom and Jim headed back to the kitchen. Worry and relief battled for his mind, worry that Oswald had been brainwashed so thoroughly that he would never recover, and relief that he had him back in his life, however changed he might be.


	12. I Wanna Be Sedated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Jim and Oswald try to figure out where they are with each other, Jim takes Oswald to the hospital to get his brain checked out and they pay a visit to Lee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday everyone! I'm so grateful to all the love and support everyone has shown for this re-write of canon and I can't thank you enough. Here's to chapter 12!
> 
> Major thanks to [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) for being a wonderful beta.  
> All other mistakes are my own.
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

 

 

Drinking tea with Oswald in the kitchen wasn’t strange, but the way he kept flinching whenever Jim came near him started to wear on what was left of his calm. This wasn’t the simpering Oswald from the past with his flickering smile and scheming eyes, but a character so far from Oswald that Jim felt like an impersonator sat in his kitchen instead. Whatever fight kept Oswald moving was gone, replaced with tearful apologies and the damn flinching.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Jim said at last, his voice harsh in the quiet of the room. “You’re safe here, with me.”

“I’m sorry,” Oswald said, playing with his cup and keeping his eyes down on the table.

“Don’t be sorry, tell me to go to hell or something.” Jim drank his own tea, a blend of black tea and orange that he found soothing, and tried not to growl when Oswald shook his head.

“I couldn’t say that.” He looked up at Jim from under his bangs, his long lashes brushing his cheeks with every blink. “Why are you being so nice?”

“Do you not remember what happened right before we killed Galavan?”

“We shouldn’t have done that,” Oswald said with a frown. “Killing is so ugly. I’m so ugly.”

Jim shoved his chair back as he stood up, walking over to Oswald and kneeling down in front of him. “You’re not. Stop that right now.” Throwing his caution out the window, Jim leaned in and placed a soft kiss to Oswald’s lips. “Remember this?”

“Kissing you?” Oswald nodded, but his look of shame didn’t disappear. “I remember manipulating you into feelings that you wouldn’t have otherwise, using your pity against you.”

Jim wanted to throw something, preferably an axe straight through Dr. Strange’s forehead. “That’s not how I remember it, and whose brain should we really trust right now?”

Oswald tilted his head. “What do you remember?”

Running a hand through his hair, Jim sat down on the floor next to Oswald. “I remember you being annoying and ridiculous and cleaning my house and cooking for me. I remember you saving me from Galavan and I remember kissing you because I wanted to, not out of pity.”

Oswald shivered next to him, his eyes flickering from Jim and back to the floor. Shame flooded through Jim’s mind.

_ He’s been through so much and I’m attacking him. When will I stop being an asshole? _

“Come on, you’re tired. I’m tired. Lets get some sleep and we can talk more tomorrow.” Jim stood up and held out his hand. “I promise I won’t hurt you, Oswald.”

“Do you accept my apology?” Oswald asked, the earnest hope in his voice making Jim want to scream.

“I accept that you’re sorry you’ve hurt people, even if you’re only sorry because someone scrambled your brain, but you’ve only been a friend to me, Oswald. I can’t accept an apology for that.” Reaching out and taking Oswald’s hand, Jim pulled him from the chair. “Can you trust me?”

“Of course, Jim,” Oswald said, letting Jim lead him out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. “Where am I sleeping?”

Jim pointed to the bed. “We’ve shared before, remember?”

Oswald nodded and pushed down on the mattress. “I remember, but as if it happened a long time ago.”

“It does feel as if it’s been forever.” Giving Oswald a push to the bed, Jim went to the bathroom and washed his face and brushed his teeth and took deep breaths to calm the rage coursing through him.

_ Whatever Oswald’s done, and I’ll be the first to say it’s a lot, he doesn’t deserve this. No one does. _

Punching the wall would garner too much attention from Oswald, so he swallowed his anger and finished cleaning up, changing into his pajama pants but leaving his shirt in the laundry basket. He walked out to find Oswald curled on the mattress, facing the wall and leaving Jim as much room as he could.

“Gee, I’m not sure I’ll need all that space, Oswald.” Poking at his shoulder, Jim managed to get Oswald turned around and looking at him. “It’s been a long day and I know you’re not thinking right. I’m sorry that I haven’t been more help.”

Oswald shook his head. “You’ve helped more than I could have imagined.”

“That’s just it, Oswald. I haven’t. If anything, I’ve been argumentative and combative and angry.” Sliding into bed, Jim leaned against the headrest and closed his eyes. “I’ll try harder, I promise.”

Oswald didn’t say anything and when Jim looked over, he found a pair of green eyes watching him in disbelief.

“What?”

“Did you really kiss me because you wanted to?”

“Yes, absolutely, yes.”

“Okay,” Oswald said, stretching out a little and relaxing into the bed. “I believe you.”

“Oh good,” Jim said with a soft smile.

“Do you want to kiss me again?”

Jim’s smile disappeared. “Yes. It’s not that simple, though.”

Oswald looked confused. “Why not?”

Taking Oswald’s hand, Jim pressed a kiss to his palm and then held it to his cheek. “Because you’re not completely, you. It would feel as if I were taking advantage of you.”

“But I wanted to kiss you before,” Oswald said, tilting his head and frowning. “And I want to kiss you now. How is that different?”

“Because my Oswald wouldn’t have asked, he’d already know.” Jim leaned back, letting Oswald’s arm fall between them. “You said you thought you’d used my pity for you to make me kiss you the first time. It would be the same kind of thing in my head.”

Oswald’s eyes dropped to the mattress and he nodded. “I understand.”

“As soon as you can remember things, the way you should,” Jim said, his voice full of sincerity. “I’ll kiss you again, and a whole lot more, if you’ll let me.”

“What if I want to stay like this?” Oswald asked, gesturing to his head. “It would be better for everyone, right?”

_ No! _

“I don’t have an answer for that,” Jim said, stifling his instant rejection of the idea. “I’d rather have you, as you were meant to be, rather than how someone thinks you should be.” He slid down under the covers and rolled towards Oswald. “It’s up to you, though.”

“I’ll think about it,” Oswald answered, patting his arm and then rolling onto his other side. “Good night, Jim.”

“Good night, Oswald.”

 

******

 

SQUAAAWK. SQUAAAWK.

Killing Harvey was the first thing on Jim’s mind when his phone blared that obnoxious squawking noise. Picking up the phone, Jim hit the answer button.

“What?”

“Morning to you too, sunshine,” Harvey said, a small chuckle escaping him. “You think today is a sleeping in kind of day?”

Looking over at Oswald, Jim saw his eyes flutter open and a wrinkle form between his eyes as he took in the gray daylight. Catching Jim looking at him, Oswald threw the blanket over his head.

“I thought maybe I could catch a break since I’m dealing with a personal thing.” Jim stood and walked into the living room, intent on giving Oswald some privacy. “I’ll call Barnes as soon as I get off the phone with you.”

“No need, he’s pretty insistent that you need to get your ass into work as soon as you can, and see him first thing.” Harvey’s cheerful tone did not match his words and Jim groaned.

“I’d like one day where that man isn’t riding my ass.”

“Tell Gordon I heard that.” 

Harvey coughed into the phone. “Barnes says to tell you-”

“Yeah, I heard him. I’ll be there as soon as I’m sure my guest isn’t going to go wandering Gotham by himself.” He’d be damned if Barnes found out who was currently curled up in his bed.

“See you in a bit, partner.” Harvey hung up the phone and Jim sighed.

_ You love your job, you love your job. _

Chanting his mantra in his head, Jim showered and dressed for work, pointedly ignoring Oswald, still hiding in the bed until he was ready to leave.

“Oswald, I need to show up at work for a little bit.” Jim pulled the blanket down and smiled at the sight of Oswald curled in the middle of the bed, wrapped around Jim’s pillow. “Hey, Oswald, I’ve gotta go. You’ll be alright here by yourself until I get back right?”

Oswald groaned and pulled at the blanket. “I’m not leaving this bed.”

“That works for me,” Jim said, tucking him in and giving his forehead a kiss. “When I get back, we’re taking a trip to the hospital, the real one, to see what happened to that beautiful brain of yours.”

“My brain is not beautiful,” Oswald countered, his voice groggy. “It’s all mushy.”

“Alright, alright. Your mushy brain is getting a scan as soon as I get back.” Giving his head one last kiss, Jim patted his hip and left the apartment.

_ Barnes is going to know about Oswald’s release. _

Jim walked the two and a half blocks to his train station, trying to decide how statistically likely he could get through this day without being yelled at. The minute he stepped through the door of the police station, Barnes poked his head out of his office.

“Gordon, get up here now!”

_ Guessed about right with that then. _

He felt like he was marching up to his death, but Jim held fast to the image he had of Oswald wrapped around his pillow in the middle of the bed. 

“Cobblepot is out of Arkham,” Barnes said as soon as Jim shut the door behind him. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

Jim shook his head. “No, sir. I was told he got a clean bill of health and was released.”

“Clean bill of health, my ass.” Barnes slammed a fist on his desk. “That quack doctor let a dangerous criminal back out into my streets.”

“With all due respect, sir, he’s not dangerous anymore.” 

“Yeah, he’s got a fucking certificate.” Barnes snorted. “Do you know where he is?”

Jim nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“And let me guess, you’re not going to tell me where he is.” Barnes poked a finger into Jim’s chest. “Why not?”

“He’s a normal citizen now,” Jim replied. “You’d be inclined to put a watch detail on him and violate his rights as a citizen of Gotham.”

“Damn right, I would,” Barnes said with a sigh. “Fine, keep your secrets. He’s a criminal and he’ll slip up sooner or later. I won’t be sending him to Arkham then. He’ll go straight to Blackgate.”

“Yes, sir.” Jim kept his eyes forward and his hands clasped in front of him. “Is there anything else you need from me?” He let a little sadness bleed into his voice. “I was going to go see Lee at the hospital today.”

“No, go on.” Barnes moved back to the chair behind his desk. “Give Dr. Tompkins our best.”

“Will do, sir.”

His legs felt like jelly as he exited the office and his heart pounded in his chest. Barnes wouldn’t stop keeping an eye out for Oswald, but at least they could fly under the radar while they figured out how to fix Oswald’s brain.

_ This is my life now, trying to turn Oswald BACK into a murderous mobster. _

Shaking away the ridiculousness of that thought, Jim headed to Harvey’s desk and flicked his partner in the ear.

“That’s for letting Barnes hear me over the phone,” Jim said, flicking his ear again. “And that’s for enjoying it.”

Harvey swatted at him, but there wasn’t any malice behind the swings and Jim flopped into his desk chair.

“How sore are you from that ass whooping?”

“Who says I got my ass whooped?”

Harvey cocked an eyebrow in obvious disbelief.

“He asked where Oswald was, I said I wouldn’t divulge that kind of information on a citizen of Gotham and we left it at that.” Jim grabbed a pen and twirled it between his fingers. “He might be a hard-ass, but he knows that unless Oswald slips up, he’s got nothing on him.”

Harvey snorted. “And how long before our most slippery friend makes a mistake?”

“I don’t know if he will,” Jim said, waving Harvey closer. “He’s not just different, it’s like his memories were changed to make him think he’s the most awful person on the planet.”

“See, brainwashed, I knew it.” Harvey tapped his head. “Any place with the name Asylum in the title, there’s always brainwashing.”

“You watch too many movies,” Jim said with a huff. “I’m taking him to the hospital to see if a brain scan will show any damage.”

Nodding in agreement, Harvey patted Jim’s arm. “Seems smart, but I gotta know, wouldn’t he and everyone else be better off if he stayed like this?”

Jim balled up his fists. “He said the same thing. I know I’ll probably need my own certificate from Arkham at this point, but I miss him.”

He looked at the ground and brought Harvey closer, whispering. “He kept apologizing for everything, kept saying he was horrible, that I shouldn’t be his friend. He won’t survive a day in this city like that. Just one day outside of Arkham and someone tarred and feathered him.”

“My money is on his old crew,” Harvey whispered back. “Jim, I’m saying this as your friend, this may be the time to cut and run. He wouldn’t even come after you for it.”

“I’m not abandoning him,” Jim snarled, getting into Harvey’s face. “If you really are my friend, you’d never even suggest something like that.”

“I had to put it out there, that’s all.” Harvey backed off, holding his hands out in surrender.

“Harv, they tortured him until he wasn’t himself anymore and then sent him back out on the streets with some fucked up idea that I hated him.” Jim’s anger bubbled to the surface and he bent over, shoving it back into its box. “Either someone wanted him dead, or they wanted to see if he would revert back to his old ways.”

Turning to look out over the bullpen, Jim rested his elbows on his desk and furrowed his brow. “They didn’t count on Oswald still coming to me, or me helping him. They’ll regret that.”

“Don’t go off half-cocked,” Harvey cautioned with a sigh. “Parks ain’t quite up to replacing you yet.”

“Very funny,” Jim shot back. 

Standing up and stretching, Jim nodded at Harvey and headed for the door. “I have a hospital visit to make and you have paperwork to turn in.”

“Good luck,” Harvey called out, waving a file folder at him.

“Same to you!”

He rode a quiet train back to his apartment, the regular passengers already off to work or home and sleeping. Only one other person took up the long car, an old man leaning against the window with his head bouncing off the plexi-glass every time they passed an empty train stop. The train moved slowly along its tracks, its speed taunting Jim as he tapped his toe against the floor. When his stop came into view, he pulled the cord with a sigh of relief. The old man shifted in his seat and Jim caught a whiff of cheap alcohol as he passed. He slipped out his wallet and pressed a couple of bills into the man’s open hand as he reached the door and waited for it to open. Getting off the train, he watched it leave and then headed to his apartment, feeling better about his day even with the looming doctor’s visit.

The apartment sat dark and silent when Jim walked in, the only light filtering in from windows with the curtains thrown back. 

"Oswald?"

"Kitchen." 

Jim entered the room to find Oswald sitting on the counter, sipping something from a tea cup and looking out the grimy window towards the streets of Gotham. Dressed in a pair of sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, he looked small and harmless in the tiny kitchen.

"You ready to go?" Jim asked, leaning against the opposite wall and crossing his arms.

Oswald looked down into his tea cup. "I don't like hospitals."

"I can understand that," Jim said with a small smile. "I don't like them myself. We have to get some answers, though." He walked forward and rested his head against Oswald's shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"Like walking into traffic wouldn't be so bad," Oswald answered, relaxing into Jim's presence.

"It would be awful, I promise," Jim said, keeping his voice light even as Oswald's casual remark sent his heart racing. "I need to visit Lee as well, alright?"

"Yeah, okay." Oswald patted his back and hopped down off the counter. "My clothes are still at my old place, can we pick some up?"

"Yeah," Jim said, placing a kiss on Oswald's head. "I'm sure you don't want to wear my old clothes forever."

"They're comfortable," Oswald said, pulling at his shirt. "But I don't feel like me."

Nodding in understanding, Jim took his hand and led him out of the kitchen.  "We can stop by your place for clothes first if you like."

“No, it’s fine.” Grabbing a long coat from Jim’s closet, he slipped it on and smiled up at Jim. “Better to get it over with.”

They left the apartment and Jim hailed a taxi, not willing to wait for another train to take them to the hospital. Silence fell as the driver pulled out into the street and Jim watched Oswald out of the corner of his eye. Whatever happened in Arkham, it hadn’t changed the magnetism Oswald possessed, and Jim sat on his hands to keep from reaching over and grabbing onto him and holding him the entire ride. 

They entered the hospital to a riot of noise and activity, a multiple car collision from downtown taking up everyone’s attention, but Jim and Oswald signed in and waited for their name to be called. Jim fidgeted and Oswald slumped in his seat with his head thrown back and his eyes closed.

“Are you alright?”

“Just tired,” Oswald answered, not bothering to open his eyes. “I didn’t sleep very well.”

“Nightmares?” Jim could understand why and it ate at his calm that it was another thing he couldn’t fix. 

“Yeah, but I don’t remember them when I wake up.” Oswald shifted in his seat and placed an arm over his face, hiding his eyes.

_ I’d rather face an enemy I can see and feel and beat the shit out of than sit here and just watch him suffer. _

Leaning over, Jim grabbed Oswald’s hand and held it, not saying anything as Oswald fell asleep, and hoped his touch kept the nightmares at bay.

“Oswald Cobblepot?” A young nurse with a clipboard came over, smiling as he took in the two men.

Jim stood up and roused Oswald with a nudge. “Yeah, that’s us.”

“Please follow me,” the nurse said, banging on his clipboard and making Oswald jump.

Jim frowned, but the man was already walking toward the doors to the back. Oswald pulled at his jacket and slipped his arm through Jim’s, giving him a small smile as they followed the nurse into the belly of the hospital and then into an exam room. Jim half listened as the nurse took Oswald’s blood pressure and asked questions about his sex life and smoking. Feeling like an intruder in the room, he stood with his back to the wall and his eyes on the door, a self-designated bodyguard. The nurse left and Oswald gave him a knowing look.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jim.” He waved for him to come forward and Jim stepped closer. “Thank you.”

“I’d say any time, but I’m hoping this is a once only kind of thing,” Jim said, smiling down at Oswald and refocusing his attention to what mattered, making sure Oswald was alright.

Giving him a smile, Oswald tucked his hand into Jim’s and they waited in comfortable silence for the doctor to arrive. The peace of the moment was broken by the door swinging open and a woman in a white coat shuffling her way into the room. Jim resisted the urge to drop Oswald’s hand and back away, letting the knowledge that Oswald wanted him there to keep him still.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Carson,” she said, barely looking up from her clipboard. “What brings you in today?”

Oswald looked at him and Jim squeezed his hand in support. “I was recently released from Arkham Asylum and Jim thinks something bad happened to my brain while I was there.”

“He’s not the same person anymore,” Jim interjected. “And our memories of events don’t match up.”

She glanced between the two of them with a confused look on her face. “If there was a reason you were in Arkham, Mr. Cobblepot, then not being the same person upon release is usually the goal. I’m not sure I understand the problem.”

Oswald kept looking at Jim as if he couldn’t answer the question.

“There’s a difference between being treated for a mental disorder and being completely changed as a person. Plus, he thinks everything we, um, feel for each other, is him manipulating me.” Jim ran his free hand through his hair. “Look, can we just get a scan and go from there?”

Doctor Carson gave a small huff, but nodded. “I’ll set one up, but I doubt we’ll find anything. You’ll adapt to any changes with time.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Oswald said, squeezing Jim’s hand. 

She left the room and Jim growled in frustration. Oswald pulled him close and leaned his head against his chest.

“It’s alright,” Oswald said softly. “I figured this would be the response. People will be hard to convince that anything is wrong since I’ve been cured.”

“Torture isn’t a cure,” Jim replied as he rested his forehead against Oswald’s head. “After what you told me in Arkham, I’m convinced that Doctor Strange is up to something.”

Oswald hummed. “You know I trust you.”

“After your scan, did you want to come with me to visit Lee?” Jim asked, pressing a kiss to Oswald’s head.

“Only if you’re alright with it,” Oswald said, looking up at him. “Being on my own in a hospital is probably not a good idea.”

Jim nodded and placed Oswald’s head back on his chest. As with most hospital visits he remembered, the waiting was the worst part. Sitting around and waiting for other people to make decisions while he fretted and worried. Even with the scan, there might not be any discernible evidence that Oswald had been tortured and if they didn’t get any proof, he’d have nothing to do, but watch Oswald disintegrate into someone so far from who he was that Jim felt ill. 

_ No, I refuse to believe that will happen. This is Gotham. It can help him. _

“Jim, what are you thinking?” Oswald’s large eyes gazed up at him and Jim wanted to collapse at the absolute trust in them.

“That I’m not giving up on you, no matter what.” Tugging him close, Jim buried his nose in Oswald’s hair and prayed to a God he wasn’t sure existed.

_ Please let me help him. _

When Doctor Carson came back, she took Oswald to the exam room while Jim waited outside.

_ Waiting, again. _

With nothing to do but think about all the horrible things Oswald went through under the care of Doctor Strange, Jim pulled out his phone, making sure no one saw him disobeying the hospital rules, and called Harvey.

“Hey, what’s up?” Harvey’s easy voice anchored him to reality.

“Oswald’s getting his brain scanned,” Jim said, rubbing at his jaw. “The doctor didn’t want to do it. Apparently, she’s a firm believer that a complete personality change is the best thing for him.”

“She’s got a bit of a point,” Harvey said, the sound of him chewing filtering through the phone.

“No, she’s saying that it was smart to declaw him, in this city where you get torn to shreds if you can’t fight back.” Jim leaned against the wall and sighed. “They took away what helped him survive and now if I don’t find a way to get him back, he’s going to die.”

A long groan echoed over the phone and Jim waited for Harvey to try and convince him to bolt.

“You’ve got a bit of a point as well,” Harvey said at last. “I’ve seen declawed cats, not a good thing.”

Jim slumped with relief. “Thanks, Harv. You know having your support means a lot.”

“I support my partner, even when he’s thinking with his cock,” Harvey quipped.

“I’m not. You remember what I said about-”

“Yeah, that you love him, whatever. I still think you’re twitterpated, but hey, who am I to stand in the way of love, or lust for that matter.”

“You’re the best partner,” Jim said with a smile, listening to something crunching against the earpiece. “Do you ever stop eating, though?”

“Hey, it’s an apple, so back off,” Harvey growled.

Jim looked down the hall and saw their nurse coming back. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later.”

Hanging up his phone and shoving it in his back pocket, Jim crossed his arms and reclined on the wall with his eyes closed. The nurse passed, giving him a strange look, but he didn’t say anything and entered the room where Doctor Carson had taken Oswald. A few minutes later, Oswald backed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

“Well?”

Turning around, he gave Jim a gentle smile. “The doctor says we should receive the scans within the next couple of weeks.”

“Weeks?” Jim marched up to the door and tried the handle, but it was locked.

“It’s okay,” Oswald said, placing his hand on Jim’s bicep. “We have time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” Jim swallowed the lump in his throat at the thought of coming home to a silent apartment, Oswald leaving the terrors of this city and never returning.

Oswald nodded. “Where else would I go?”

Slinging his arm around Oswald’s shoulders, Jim shook his head. “Nowhere, you’re needed right here.”

“So, Lee?”

Jim grinned and led the way to Lee’s room, Oswald’s hand held firmly in his as they navigated the halls. It was dangerous to attach himself so visibly to Oswald in a place so public, but he needed the world to know that Oswald had backup, that even if he was vulnerable, they would have to get through Jim to get to him.

Lee lay in her bed, eyes on the T.V. and her machines still spread around her, all the wires leading under her blanket to monitor the baby still fighting for it’s life.

“Hey, Lee,” Jim said with a small wave, Oswald following suit.

She turned and frowned. “What are you both doing here?”

“I had a doctor’s appointment,” Oswald supplied, his face pinched and his eyes sad. “I’m sorry for what’s happened to your child.”

Giving him a confused look, she turned to Jim. “How did you manage to bust him out?”

“They let him go,” Jim said, giving Oswald a shake of his head. “Apparently Doctor Strange can cure anything.”

Lee huffed. “Come in then, standing at the doorway is rude.”

Oswald shuffled in after Jim and took a seat across the room while Jim walked over and kissed Lee’s forehead.

“How’s the babe doing?” He asked, placing a hand on her stomach.

“They’re afraid the cold damaged her more than initially thought. The doctors are hoping she can recover though.”

Jim swallowed the lump in his throat. “Her?”

Lee looked down and placed a hand on her stomach, right over Jim’s. “Yeah, her.”

Jim looked over at Oswald, who was staring out the window and trying his best not to intrude.

“Oswald, a baby girl, can you believe it?”

Oswald turned and smiled at him. “I can believe it. It’s the world’s most common miracle.”

Lee gave him a look and then waved at him. “Come here.”

Oswald obeyed immediately, walking to the other side of the bed and standing with his hands clasped in front of him.

Her face flickered between confusion and shock. “What happened?”

He looked at Jim and shrugged, as if to ask permission.

“You can tell her if you want,” Jim said, keeping his voice gentle so the rage wouldn’t leak through into his words.

Nodding slightly, Oswald turned back to Lee. “Doctor Strange may have had unusual methods, but you can't say he doesn't get results." Oswald's small smile faltered as she stared at him. "I am his favorite success story. Jim says it was torture.”

“It is torture,” Lee said, shock and horror written on her face. “Who would do that to someone?”

“Someone who runs an insane asylum full of criminals can apparently do what he wants, no offense, Oswald.” Jim gave Oswald an apologetic look.

“Oh, none taken. I am a criminal, convicted and sentenced as the law demanded.” Oswald stood smiling, his open face bringing the dark beast in Jim to life. 

Lee placed her hand on Oswald’s arm. “You really aren’t feeling right, are you?”

“I feel fine,” Oswald argued. “Jim thinks I’m not thinking right, though.”

“You’re not.” Jim turned to Lee. “We weren’t coming to talk about Oswald. I wanted to see how you are holding up.”

“I’m bored out of my skull,” Lee answered. “I don’t think I’ve watched so much T.V. in years. Harvey said he would bring me some books later, so I don’t rot my brain.” She covered her mouth. “Sorry, it’s just a phrase.”

Oswald didn’t seem bothered by it and Jim gave her shoulder a pat. “It’s fine. Listen, we were going to stop by Oswald’s to grab some clothes. Tell Harvey when he gets here to take good care of you.”

Watching Lee blush at his words only confirmed how close his partner and ex-girlfriend had been getting these past few weeks. The machines around them beeped, then the noise grew and Lee stared in horror at Jim while nurses rushed in and pushed him and Oswald outside. Jim held onto Oswald as the door slammed in their faces, only for it to swing open again and a trio of nurses wheeled Lee away, her hands clasped to her stomach and her face pale.

“Lee, do you want me to come with you?” Jim called out, following the fast moving gurney.

“Sir, you’ll have to stay back,” a nurse said, pushing him away. “This is an emergency.”

Jim stopped, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Lee disappear through the swinging doors leading to the operating rooms. 

_ Please be alright, please. _

“Jim. Jim, please. We can’t stay in the hallway.” Oswald pulled on his sleeve and Jim followed with blank eyes and shuffling steps.

The waiting room held a few people, some clutching hands while others stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t a place for joy, only worry and heartache and Jim wanted to run from the room.

_ **I’m sorry, ma’am. The damage was too severe and we couldn’t repair it. We’re sorry for your loss. _

_ His mother stared at the doctor, not comprehending the news. _

_ Jim thanked the doctor, pulling on his mother’s sleeve. “We have to go.” _

_ “Your father’s not here yet,” she said. “We have to wait for your father.”** _

Jim sat in one of the thinly padded chairs, turning his eyes to the ceiling as memories of his father’s death flooded his mind. Seeing Lee go behind those doors was like watching his mother crumble in front of him once more.

“Jim, I need you to drink this,” Oswald said, his voice slow and steady.

Jim looked over to see a cup of coffee, its pale brown color swirling in the paper cup. He took the cup and held it between his hands, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink it. Oswald sighed and sat beside him, sipping from his own cup and making a face of disgust before shrugging and taking another sip. Time slipped by in a paradox, the minutes dragging on and the hours flying by. Each time the doors opened and a nurse walked in, Jim felt his heart leap to his throat. Each time the nurse veered away from them to go tell another group news, good or bad, his head pounded and his eyes threatened tears.

Jim turned his head away from the doors.“Oswald, do you remember that song? The one your mother used to sing to you?”

He didn’t give a yes or no response, but Oswald started singing in his soft tenor, the song barely audible and meant only for Jim’s ears. While he sang, Oswald reached out and took Jim’s hand, holding it tight while he let the tears fall.

“Lee Tompkins?”

Jim jumped up, wiping away his tears and raising his hand. “Here, here.”

The nurse walked over, her steady footsteps like the sounds of historic war drums. She looked down at her clipboard and then up at him with sympathy in her eyes.

“Dr. Tompkins is alright, and is resting now.” She looked at her clipboard again and Jim held his breath. “Are you the father?”

“Yes, yes I am.” Jim wanted to shake the words out of her.

“I’m sorry ,sir, but the baby suffered too much cell degeneration from being frozen in ice. She didn’t survive.”

The words rang in Jim’s ears and he looked at Oswald, trying to focus and make sense of what he’d been told. Oswald stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm.

“Jim, I’m so sorry. The baby didn’t make it.”

“She didn’t make it.” Collapsing in a heap, Jim gathered his legs to his chest and stared at the checkered tile of the waiting room floor.

He barely noticed the nurse leaving, Oswald thanking her as she walked away, and the only sound he could make out was the rush of blood through his veins.

_ Frozen, it’s because she was frozen. _

He didn’t register Oswald crouching beside him as the words repeated in his head like a chant of condemnation. 

_ It’s all my fault. I killed her. I killed her. _

“Jim, they said we can’t see Lee until tomorrow,” Oswald whispered as he draped an arm over Jim’s shoulder. “We need to go.”

“Go.” Jim stood up, brushing off Oswald’s arm. “It’s my fault.”

“What? No, it’s not. You didn’t encase Lee in ice.”

“I should have been watching her,” Jim argued, glaring at Oswald as his anger rushed to the surface. “I wasn’t, though. I was looking for you, worried about you instead of protecting her.”

“You were trying to help me, Jim.” Oswald’s voice grew frantic. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what? Tell the truth? While the mother of my child was kidnapped by a crazy person, I was trying to help another crazy person?” Jim slammed a hand against the wall. “I should have been doing my fucking job!”

Oswald backed away and Jim seethed at the placating look on his face.

“You don’t see? I could have stopped all of this, if I’d just let you go.” Jim stood shocked at his own words, but his rage consumed him and he couldn’t take them back. 

“You should have.” Oswald looked down at the floor. “I don’t know why you didn’t.”

“Because I actually believed I was in love with you,” Jim spat as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Watching Oswald’s face turn pale, Jim wanted to bite off his own tongue. He held onto his fury, letting the dark beast inside him take control.

“I can’t look at you,” Jim said and walked out of the waiting room.

His rage carried him through the hospital in a fog of red and he walked out into the streets of Gotham, rain falling in sheets. Pulling his collar up around his neck, Jim headed down the sidewalk, looking for somewhere to escape the rain and the throbbing ache in his chest.


	13. Forgive Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim gets sloshed, Harvey throws down some common sense, Victor is weird, and a stranger from Oswald's past could change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Alright, we've reached the middle ground! I will be taking a break after this chapter because I have a vacation happening! I should be back at the beginning of April and we will pick up the story from there.  
> Take care everyone and be kind to each other *hugs*
> 
> I am so grateful to [thekeyholder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder) and her beta skillz.
> 
> All other mistakes are my own.
> 
> Check me out on [tumblr](http://kateera.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/kateera_) to say hi and ask questions and flail over Gobblepot.

 

 

 

“I give up, I give up on it all. You know, that whole thing about love making you whole or some shit?” Jim swallowed the last of his beer. “Load of total fucking bullshit. I mean, hey, I’ve been in love and you know what, it sucks. I mean, it sucked.”

“Alright, I think you’ve had enough there, bud.” the bartender pulled Jim’s empty glass away from him. “You need to pay your tab and get out.”

“I’m not done!” Jim patted his pockets until he found his badge, holding it up to the bartender with a smile. “See, I’m a cop. A detective. I detect that you’re gonna give me another beer.”

“I don’t care if you’re Sherlock Holmes brought to life. I’m kicking you out of here.” Grabbing Jim’s badge, he waved it at him. “Pay up and you get this back.”

“Fucking people,” Jim said with a noticeable slur, digging out his wallet and throwing the first card he found on the counter. “Can’t you tell when someone’s in pain?”

“Yeah, you’re not in pain anymore,” the bartender said with a smirk. “You probably don’t remember why you came here in the first place.”

Jim plopped his head on the bar and pain exploded in his forehead, but he ignored it. “She lost the baby, and it’s my fault. I couldn’t save her.”

A pen slowly rolled across the bar, the scrape of plastic on wood reverberating in the silent room. With a resigned sigh, the bartender slid another full beer under Jim’s hand.

“Last one, alright, buddy?”

Jim couldn’t look up, his head too fuzzy to nod, but he took the glass and gulped down its contents. Murmurs started as he drank, but he didn’t care. 

_ Fucking city with its shitty people and too much rain and everything is awful. _

As he finished his beer, two arms wrapped around his middle and dragged him out of the bar, holding him hostage as he twisted to see who was manhandling him away from his alcohol. The person released him and Jim fell to the sidewalk, holding his stomach and groaning.

“Where’s the boss?”

Jim blinked and tilted his head as two Gabes stared at him with hands on their hips.

“I didn’t know you were a twin.” With shaky arms, Jim stood and wobbled over to the nearest garbage bin, throwing up everything still in his stomach until his throat burned.

Resting against the cool metal of the bin, he moaned. “You and your brother can suck it.”

Gabe walked over, sniffing in disgust. “You’re useless. Where’s the boss?”

“Hospital, last place I saw him.” Jim rubbed at his face and then grabbed the trash can as he puked again.

As his body spasmed in dry heaves, Gabe patted his back and when Jim looked up, there was a cloth handkerchief being waved in front of his face. He took the cloth and wiped his face.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice shaking. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, sure you are.” Gabe waved down a taxi and placed Jim inside it, giving some kind of instruction to the driver that Jim couldn’t hear.

“If you’re gonna drug me and take me someplace to kill me, don’t wake me up,” Jim said, slumping in the seat while Gabe shut the door and banged on the top of the car.

Jim closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sway of the car and the way his stomach clenched around every turn.

_ Disaster Jim. That’s me. _

When the cab stopped, the driver hopped out and helped Jim to the sidewalk. Jim reached for his wallet, but the driver gave him a sympathetic pat and shook his head.

“The big fella already paid me. You get better now.”

Jim grinned and looked around him, frowning as he recognized Harvey’s front door.

_ This is not my house. _

Looking back down the street, he watched the taxi cab turn the corner and disappear from view. With a heavy sigh, he weaved up to Harvey’s door and slammed the knocker down on the wood. The sound hurt his head and he did again, sinking into the pain.

“Hey, what the fuck are you- Jim?” Harvey pulled open the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Harvey!” Jim said, opening his arms wide and stumbling through the door.

Harvey grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the house, slamming the door behind him. Jim tripped as they took the two steps up to Harvey’s living room and fell to his knees on the floor.

“Jesus, Jim. Did you drink an entire liquor store?” Harvey picked him up and put him on the couch, moving into the kitchen and out of Jim’s line of sight.

“I was at a bar,” Jim said, the sound of his voice ringing in his ears. “Now I’m not. They made me leave.”

“Yeah, they do that once you’ve had so much you can’t see straight.” Harvey walked back in with a glass of water in one hand and a couple of pills in the other. “Here, take these and drink this. It won’t stop the hangover, but it should lessen the pain.”

Sitting next to Jim on the couch, Harvey leaned back into the cushions with a sigh. “Guess I should have expected you.”

“Why?” Jim tried to focus on Harvey’s face, but the pills and water hadn’t helped his vision, so he put his head back and closed his eyes.

“I called the hospital and talked to Lee,” Harvey said quietly. “I’m sorry about the baby, Jim.”

Jim nodded, but didn’t open his eyes. “We were going to have a little girl. I should have known there wasn’t hope.”

Harvey gave his arm a soft pat. “Give it time, Jimbo. You’ll get through it. You’ve got people who care, remember?”

Jim snorted and ran his hand through his hair. “Get through it, right. I should have listened to you, you know?”

“Oh? Which time?”

Jim felt Harvey shift on the couch. “About Oswald. When he got thrown in Arkham, I should have just walked away. Instead, I got distracted, Lee got hurt, the baby’s dead and it’s my fucking fault.”

“How the hell is this your fault? I blame the dude with the freeze ray!”

“My job, should have been doing my job instead of off looking for Oswald.” Jim sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. “Falling for a criminal, what a joke.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“I let Oswald distract me and Lee paid the price,” Jim said with a snarl, anger curling in the pit of his stomach. “I set him loose. No sense in letting it happen again. Who am I kidding? Dating a criminal was never going to work.”

“Uh uh.” Harvey stood up and moved away.

Jim opened his eyes and watched him go, tilting his head back and forth while the room spun around him. Harvey came back with a blanket and a pillow.

“I think you need to get some sleep,” Harvey said with a smile. “The morning is coming fast and you’ve got things to do tomorrow.”

“Like what?” Jim asked, already stretching out on the couch and pushing the pillow under his head.

Harvey hummed and laid the blanket on top of him. “I’ll let you know in the morning. Sleep for now, alright?”

“Alright.” Jim closed his eyes and the world stopped spinning and he let the warmth of the room soak through him. 

The click of the light switch was the last thing he remembered before he drifted off to sleep.

 

*******

 

_ Turn off the drums. _

The beating grew louder, a consistent throbbing in his brain that sent pain shooting through his head and his neck and down to the tips of his fingers. The pain shook him from sleep and he opened his eyes to a blinding light shining down on him. The sensation of spears stabbing his eyeballs forced a shout from his lips and the sound intensified the throbbing in his head.

“Morning, sleepy head!”

Jim groaned as Harvey’s voice joined the chorus of pain in his head. “Shhhh.”

“Shit, man, you look awful,” Harvey said, setting something on the coffee table. “You’re going to need this.”

“Lights, can’t see.” Jim waved toward the ceiling, hoping Harvey would take pity on him. 

“Sorry, I’d turn down the sun if I could, Jimbo.” Harvey slapped his arm and Jim wanted to die.

“Kill me, please.” Jim rolled over and cracked an eye open, finding the blurry outline of Harvey through the blazing light.

Harvey laughed. “No can do, partner. You’ve got things to do first and I have to go see Lee and I don’t have time to bury a body.”

“I have absolutely nothing to do today,” Jim countered, struggling to sit up. His arms felt like rubber.

Harvey’s grin widened and he picked up the thermos sitting beside him. “Beg to differ, man. You’ll need a shower and a change of clothes first, but then, you’re going to go find that weird little boyfriend of yours and apologize for being a gigantic ass.”

Jim blinked at Harvey, then shook his head in case he was seeing things and it was really someone else in front of him. The shaking didn’t help his current state of pain and Harvey didn’t disappear.

_ Harvey wants me to find Oswald? Did I land in a different dimension? _

“Are you seriously trying to get Oswald and I back together?” Jim grabbed the thermos from Harvey’s hand and opened it, releasing the aroma of fresh brewed coffee.

“For the sake of your safety, his safety, and my sanity, yeah.” Harvey stood up and pointed at Jim, his face twisted in disappointment. “I don’t know what happened to bring you both together, and I don’t want to know because frankly, I already have nightmares.” He ran a hand through his hair. “All I know is, you’d been happy with the little snitch and now you’re set to be fucking miserable again and I don’t need that in my life. Get out of my house, go find Cobblepot, and stop placing blame where it ain’t got a right to be.”

“Why would you want me happy?” Jim asked, his frustration building. “Lee lost the baby and it was because I was too focused on Oswald to do my fucking job.”

Harvey scoffed. “Fuck you, Jim. So what if you’d been in the room? The man had a freaking freeze ray! In that scenario, all I get is everyone of you dead.” He lowered his voice and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry about your kid, alright? But everyone did the best they could and I’d rather have you and Lee alive then live in some hypothetical ‘what if’ for the rest of my life.”

Jim stared down at the coffee, a trail of steam drifting into the air. His head throbbed and his stomach rolled, but the pain couldn’t compare to the deep ache in his heart at the way he’d treated Oswald. The things he said kept repeating in his mind and the hurt look from Oswald felt like it was forever burned into the back of his eyelids.

“I can’t.” Jim looked up at Harvey with a look of self-loathing. “He’s gotta hate me by now, right?”

“Jim, I love you, I do, but that little weirdo thinks you’ve got sunlight shining out of your ass.” Harvey held up a hand as him scowled. “See, you still want to defend him. Now get the fuck off my couch and out of my house and go make sure he hasn’t gone and gotten himself killed.”

Jim jumped up, the thought of Oswald lying dead in an alley somewhere sending a shock of cold through his chest. His panic turned to nausea at the sudden movement and he held a hand over his mouth as he ran for the bathroom. Harvey’s curses followed him into the bathroom, but all Jim could focus on was clutching the sides of the toilet as his body purged itself of last night’s idiotic mistake. Once he could stand up without more nausea, Jim washed his mouth out and wiped his face, giving his reflection in the mirror a disdainful look.

Walking out of the bathroom, he found Harvey standing nearby with a glass of water. “Drink up, get some fluids in you.”

“You’re my hero,” Jim said and took the water, gulping it down completely and handing the glass back to Harvey.

“Now get,” Harvey said, pointing to the door.

Stopping by the couch to grab his jacket, Jim rushed out the door and made it two blocks before he stopped and realized that he had no idea where to look. The city around him buzzed as usual, a normal day for the citizens of Gotham. Knowing that Oswald wouldn’t be at home if he went back to his apartment filled Jim with dread, but he had to start somewhere. Hailing a taxi, Jim slid into the back seat and directed the driver to his house.

_ I’m a first class idiot. Where would he go? Is he safe? _

Images of Oswald tied up, beaten bloody, thrown into the harbor, lying somewhere with a gunshot to his temple, all flooded Jim’s mind until he thought he might be sick again. He took a breath and calmed his mind.

_ Won’t be any help if I’m in a panic the whole time.  _

His apartment was empty, as he suspected, but he changed into clothes that didn’t smell like smoke and cheap whiskey and cleaned off the remnants of his night of misery. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, he chugged it down with a couple of Tylenol. His stomach still felt tender and he knew he’d need food soon, but he didn’t want to waste any more time. Locking the door behind him, Jim stepped into the hallway to find Victor Zsasz waiting for him by the stairs.

“Well, Jim Gordon, what do you have to say for yourself?” Victor stepped forward and Jim found himself barricaded against his own front door.

His heart pounded as fear flooded his body. “What’s happened? Is he okay? Who hurt him?”

Victor tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Concern? Now?”

Jim pushed him back. “Of course I’m concerned! He’s not-” He stopped, not sure how wise it was to let Victor in on the changes to Oswald’s personality.

“He’s not himself,” Victor finished with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, that great galoot of his did mention that the bird had changed his feathers. Regardless, we don’t abandon family, now do we, Jimmy?”

Jim balled up his fists. “What’s happened to him?”

“Oh, nothing,” Victor said, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed. “Not that you were any help in the matter.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Jim slumped against his door. “Cut me some slack. I lost my kid and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Thinking ‘straight’, good one.” Victor pulled out his gun and spun it in his hand. “Oswald’s still alive and well, if a little off his rails. I kept my eye on him while you were busy at the bottom of a beer glass. Now, why should I help you find him?”

“Look, I know I was an ass.” Jim closed his eyes and took a breath, making himself calm down before he tried to pummel answers out of the assassin and ended up with a bullet in his brain. “I want to find him and apologize, alright?”

Victor hummed and rocked his head as if debating his answer, his gun still spinning between his fingers. “Decisions, decisions.”

“I’ll find him on my own then,” Jim said with a snarl, heading for the stairs.

“Cops are so dramatic,” Victor said and sighed. “He’s buying lilies, his mother’s favorite.”

Jim stopped, turned and stared at Victor. “And you’re calling me dramatic?”

“Hey, I’d hate for you to lose that detective edge.” Victor smiled an slid his gun back into its holster, giving Jim an enthusiastic wave. “Toodles!”

Shaking his head, Jim raced down his stairs and back out into the city. Victor’s clue wasn’t exactly a challenge and he found another taxi, directing the driver to Gotham Cemetery. His leg bounced as the driver pulled into the street and he looked out the window at the dark clouds covering the sky. Gotham felt empty today, even with the rush of traffic and pedestrians, and Jim fidgeted and clenched his jaw as the taxi took him closer to Oswald. 

The wind whipped Jim’s coat behind him as he made his way through the headstones and grave markers of the cemetery and he tugged the collar tighter around his throat. Most of the cemetery grounds stood empty and quiet, the dead keeping their silent judgment on the city beyond their gates. He found Oswald standing before a headstone, flowers in his hand, and his head bowed.

Now that he’d found him, Jim couldn’t think of what to say, every phrase and greeting sounded grating and inappropriate. Walking up to the headstone, Jim stood next to Oswald with his hands folded and his mind swirling with indecision.

“I hadn’t been able to visit before I went to Arkham,” Oswald said, his soft voice barely carrying through the air. “Thank you for bringing her flowers.”

Jim nodded and cleared his throat, happy to have one thing in his favor. “I came when I could. I told her you were being brave.”

Oswald smiled. “She would have hated you. She hated all policeman and anyone who might take me away from her.” A tear fell and he wiped it away. “No matter how many times I told her that I wouldn’t abandon her, I don’t think she believed me.”

“She knows now,” Jim said, raising his hand to comfort Oswald, but stopping before he touched him, unsure of how welcome it would be. “She knows you never stopped looking.”

Oswald raised his head and looked at Jim. “What are you doing here?”

Jim met his eyes, but his throat closed up at the open hurt on Oswald’s face and he couldn’t speak. Turning back to the simple stone in front of him, Jim bowed his head and knelt in the cold grass.

“Hi, Gertrud. I know we’ve only met a few times, but I’ve heard a lot about you from your son.” Jim glanced up to see Oswald staring down at him in confusion. “I’ve heard that you wouldn’t like me very much, but that’s fine. I’m not the nicest guy sometimes.” Turning back to the headstone, he shook his head. “You see, something tragic happened yesterday and instead of being a good person, I was cruel. Your son didn’t deserve it, of course, but I let it happen all the same. Like I said, I’m not the nicest guy.” He looked back up at Oswald. “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

Silence filled the spaces between Jim’s breaths, but he kept his gaze on Oswald, refusing to let his guilt force him “Why do you even want my forgiveness?” Oswald asked, looking down at his hands. “I’ve done so many terrible things.”

Jim felt tears welling up in his eyes. “Because no matter what, I should have never said those things to you. I’ve done terrible things as well and you’ve had my back.”

A harsh sob burst from Oswald and he fell down next to Jim, clinging to him as he nodded against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jim. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Oswald.” Jim wrapped his arms around him and his eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry I let you walk out that door. I’m sorry I said what I did. I shouldn’t have. Everything with Lee, none of it is your fault.”

Oswald brought his hands to either side of Jim’s face and met his eyes. “No, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have walked out on you even if you’d told me to. Grief and anger make people do things they regret and I should have stayed by your side.”

Jim wanted to lean forward and kiss him, hearing those words that sounded so much like his Oswald. The open expression on Oswald’s face stopped him and he pressed a soft kiss to his forehead instead. “We’re both idiots, is that what you’re getting at?”

Oswald giggled and nodded against his shoulder. “Not the least of which for sitting on the wet grass.”

Jim let him go and hopped to his feet, holding out a hand to help Oswald back up. “Home?”

“Excuse me,” a man said behind them.

Jim turned around with his hand on his gun. A tall, thin man stood behind them with a gray hat on his head and dressed in black, a bouquet of lilies in hand and a frown on his face.

As he walked closer, Jim pulled Oswald back and let the man stand near the grave.

”I don’t take kindly to people rolling around on my Gurdy’s grave,” he said, motioning to Gertrud’s headstone.

Oswald squeaked and shook his head. “No, we weren’t. I mean, what? Your who?”

The man walked up and placed his flowers in the metal vase on the side of the headstone, taking off his head as he stared at the granite slab. “Leave, please.”

Oswald looked at Jim and then his mother’s headstone and then up at the man. “You knew my mother?”

Turning around and facing Oswald, the man looked at him with wide eyes. “Your mother?”

“Who are you?” Oswald asked.

Jim looked at the two of them and gasped, taking in the similarities of their features and the matching color of their hair, though the older man had threads of gray running through the black strands.

“Oswald, how old are you?” Jim asked, keeping his eyes on the man’s face and wrinkling his brow.

“Excuse me?”

“Age, your age.”

Oswald frowned, but answered with a small sniff. “I’m thirty-one, but I don’t see-”

“Thirty-one?” The man took a step back and Jim watched his eyes widen and his mouth drop, shock written in every line of his body.

Jim wrapped his arm around Oswald and held him tight. “I think he’s your father, Oswald.”


End file.
